


Payment

by Kca1516



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Gang War, Guns, Human AU, I used to be normal, Kidnapping, LItte Bit Kinky, M/M, Mafia AU, Mentions of Molesting, Minor Character Death, No molesting, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Smut, Tttba (tags to be announced), Violence, mentioned child abuse, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-02-16 06:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 47,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kca1516/pseuds/Kca1516
Summary: He was beautiful.His demeanor demanded respect.His visible scars showed he was a force to be reckoned with.Power rolled off him in waves, and his confident expression left no room for doubt.But the most beautiful thing about this man was his eyes.His hazel eyes had Stiles catching his breath, forgetting how to speak. Though they were filled with anger it wasn't directed at him, but at the man, Peter. Even he was smart enough to respect this man."Alpha," Peter said.~~~~~~~~~~Stiles is used as payment when his father doesn't have enough money to pay off his debt to mafia leader Derek Hale





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is our first fanfic on Ao3  
> Hope you don't hate it  
> Comments appreciated  
> Updates on Friday  
> Lots of love

The sun beat down on Stiles's back as he walked, unnoticed, through crowded streets. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he'd probably have a peeling sunburn on his neck for weeks. That accompanied with blisters on his feet already made for a bad day. But, none of that mattered right now.  
Stiles just wanted to get home from school without having another set of bruises painted on his skin. He should have known nothing was ever that easy.

A familiar voice let out a cruel laugh from down the street. Without turning back to look, Stiles quickened his pace through the uglier parts of the city. The shitty buildings and even shittier people were what Stiles had come to call home.  
Stiles and his father were very far from being rich. They rented a small, rundown apartment they could barely afford to live in. But, in 1924 there was only so much someone could do without money.  
After Stiles's dad lost his job at the police department, he went into a depression. That's when the drinking started.  
In the span of two weeks the duo was flat broke. All of the remaining money they had, ended up being spent on cheap whiskey. The luxuries of the life Stiles previously lived didn't prepare him for what his life became. Stiles had to sell most of his possessions, and there were few things he indulged in. The exception being his education. His father had given him permission to go to school. If only so he didn't have to look his son in the face every minute of every day.

Of course, when this all started Stiles did have to drop out of school so he could look for work. For a while he took jobs down at the docks. He unloaded crates from the cargo ships that came into the harbor.  
Stiles had started out determined. Ready to do whatever it took to keep his father and him afloat. But, the job began to take a toll he hadn't expected. Blisters had littered his hands, and there was still a phantom pain in his newly healed shoulder.

Some of Stiles's kinder colleagues had seen him struggling and would help out when they could. The boy had never been, how you would say, physically inclined. Even the extreme labor that job put him through never bulked him up. And, it never took Stiles long before he found himself in trouble. He ran his mouth too much. It was a tic of his he had never been able to control. He soon found out how much of a mistake that had been.

At first, what became his tormentors, used to call out to Stiles as he passed by. They would shout lewd things that made Stiles want to disappear, getting louder and more confident as time went by. It got to a point where people walking by would stare rudely at him...as if he were the problem.  
Stiles sucked it up for a long time. He tried to avoid his co-workers at all costs. To get away from them, he used to find secret hiding places. No one would be able to find him, just as he wanted. But, things started to escalate. Crued words turned into sharp pinches, and light groping. That was when Stiles put his foot down. He was not a toy to be played with. Stiles went after his tormentors with fire in his veins, they hadn't stood a chance. He lashed out at them until, finally, they left him alone. But, Stiles knew that wasn't the end of it. He had no doubt that should he find himself alone, they would be there.  
In some ways he was right, in others wrong.  
They didn't come after him in the orthodox sense. They knew physically harming Stiles could get them fired. And wouldn't that have been too easy. But, nothing was ever simple for Stiles. Instead, the men gave the boy work his body couldn't handle.

It wasn't long before he dislocated his shoulder, and was then put out of work.

Stiles was useless to the company now that he had hurt myself, and it cost them money to keep him. It wasn't fair, but then again nothing ever was.  
At the time Stiles thought he and his dad were doomed. They would have to sell the limited amount of possessions they had, and they'd definitely lose the apartment. In a week they'd be out on the streets...if it wasn't for the money his dad stumbled upon.  
Honestly, Stiles still didn't know what had happened. But, the day after he was fired his father got off his drunken ass, went outside for the first time in weeks, and came back with enough money to keep them on their feet a little longer. That was when Stiles was sent back to school. And, hell, was he currently regretting it.

"Stilinski," Stiles heard the infamous Jackson Whittemore call.

Jackson Whittemore; a big headed, egotistical, moronic ass- he's a jerk. The first day Stiles went back to school, the other boy tried to have a go at him. Needless to say Stiles punched him...and then got his own ass handed to him in a neat little package with a bow on top. Jackson and his gang had been after him ever since.

Stiles turned down a different route, trying harder to blend in with the crowd so he could sneak away.  
But, it was no use, Stiles had turned down a dead end street. He spun around hoping he had time to backtrack, only to come face to face with Jackson.

"Hold him down," Jackson said with a smirk.

Danny, Jackson's right hand man, grabbed the collar of Stiles' shirt and threw him to the ground. Stiles thrust his hands out at the last second, just managing to catch himself before his face met pavement.

"What do you want, asshat," Stiles spat at Jackson, hatred burning through him. He could tell by the glint in his eye, Jackson didn't like that.

"One would think," he said in a clipped tone,"you'd learn to have better manners then that Stilinski, with all the lessons we give you," he turned to Greenberg, giving a slight nod. Stiles almost laughed, look at the little boys pretending to be men. But, he was quickly given something else to think about when Greenburg punched his face. Stiles jaw screamed in pain, and he had to swallow the blood that flooded his mouth. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him hurt.

"Maybe that might show you some manners," Jackson growled. His friends laughed.

"All it did was prove how much of a coward you really are," Stiles retorted. The laughing died down quick.

"What did you just say to me?" Jackson asked, eyes bulging in anger. Stiles smirked, Whittemore had his fun now it was his turn.

"You are a coward. Having your pets do your dirty work for you, be a man for once in your pathetic life Jackson. If you're going to hit me...do it yourself."

Jackson stood rigid for a moment, not knowing what to do. He didn't want to get his own hands dirty with the meneal task of beating Stiles up. He wanted the power that made people do that for him. But, if he didn't hit Stiles now, his little gang would think he was weak, and he'd never live it down. There was only one choice. Jackson raised his arm and socked Stiles hard in the jaw. Stiles collapsed to the ground, satisfied that he had gotten under Jackson's skin. Also kind of regretting it.

Jackson stepped back, his signature smirk back in place, no one was doubting him now. “Get him." Jackson ordered his little gang. Danny and Greenburg laughed and started backing Stiles up into the brick wall behind him. Stiles crawled away, scrapping his hands against hard pavement and broken glass from a discarded beer bottle. He couldn't seem to get his footing. Stiles crawled and crawled until he couldn't anymore, until they were right in front of him. The boys continued to laugh at Stiles’s misfortune, talking among themselves about how weak and pathetic he was. But, their unattentivness was all Stiles needed to gain his balance. He waited for the opportune moment when both goons had their backs to him, before he lept off the ground.

"Wh-" but Danny never finished his sentence because Stiles found it to be the perfect time to knee him in the groin. Danny fell back with a groan, but was quickly replaced by Greenburg.

"You little-" he started saying as he swung at Stiles, but Stiles was ready for it. He ducked out of the way, managing to elbow Greenburg. Also in the groin. The other boy squeaked and fell to the ground. Stiles smirked then turned to Jackson. His face was pale as a ghost, and Stiles swore he was shaking.

"Normally I'd let you go, but..." Stiles brought his leg up, getting Jackson right between the legs. The boy screamed and fell to the ground.

Stiles started retreating a smile on his face,"I did the world a favor, now none of you can ever have children."

Jackson and his goons stumbled over each other until they shakily got to their feet, ready for a fight. But, by the time they turned back to Stiles, he was already out of sight.

.  
.  
.  
.  
If there's one thing Stiles was good at, it was running. His lanky body provided fast mobility that made him faster than any person he had raced against. Stiles had never been more grateful for that then right now.

He ran for an hour straight. 

He ignored the shouting protests his body was giving him, ignored the fact that it was getting dark. He also ignored the fact that he was terribly lost in an unknown part of the city.  
Unfortunately, that's when the adrenaline started to wear off. He turned down a dead end street, stopping to finally get his bearings. Stiles was lost and tired and could barely stand on his shaking legs.  
Too numb to protest against himself or try and find a way home, he collapsed to the ground.  
But, resting wasn't on the agenda when the sound of music reached his ears.

Stiles groaned, just wanting to fall asleep. He must've stopped behind some sort of club. A shrivel of hope alighted in him. Maybe if he yelled for help someone would come and find him. But, even if they did who would try and help the battered up, rag tag of a boy that was Stiles. He sighed realizing, not for the first time, just how alone he really was.

Maybe that was for the best.

Stiles was sick of what his life had become. He was sick of going home to a drunk father, sick of getting beat up, sick of being afraid of everything all the time.  
He wanted someone who would love him, who would make sure he was safe, who would take care of him when he couldn't do it himself.

But, before Stiles could continue wallowing in self pity, a girl's cry reached his ears. With a new sense of urgency, Stiles painfully picked himself up off the ground. He scanned the area, searching for the girl the voice belonged to.

"Please, help me, sir, please," Stiles looked around more frantically and finally spotted red silk from behind a trashcan. Slowly, making sure not to scare the lady, he moved the can out of the way to get a better look.  
Before him sat a beautiful girl with dark hair pinned up atop her head, a pearl necklace fell from her porcelain neck and a blood red dress adorned her body. She looked beautiful even when crying. Stiles noticed she hid her face in the tattered silk of her dress. Had someone hit her?

"Miss...um... I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to see if there's any damage." Stiles said. The women still sat there crying, not responding to his request. It was almost like she hadn't noticed him at all. Biting his lip in worry, Stiles tried again. “If you tell me who you came here with, ma'am, I can go find them and have them call a doctor."  
The poor girl sniffled, but slowly picked her head up out of her hands to look at the boy.  
"Oh hun, you're sweet, it really is a shame."

"What?" 

But, before Stiles could process what she said, something hit the back of his head. Pain exploded in his skull. It felt like drums were beating around his brain, and though he tried to stay awake unconsciousness surrounded him. 

The last thing Stiles saw were beautiful amber eyes laced with remaining tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So because not much happens in the first chapter we are going to post the second for people to read and then go back to our regular scheduled programming lol thats a joke don’t kill me it would be appreciated  
> All the love

Stiles woke to the murmurings of hushed voices, and a raging headache. With a groan, the boy drearily blinked open his eyes. Any second now he expected his belligerent father to burst through the door. But, when he finally took a moment to take in his surroundings he was met with...nothing. Stiles scrambled up to a seated position, his heart thundering in his chest. He couldn't make out any of the few possessions he had in his room, nor did he see the small, dusty window that usually let light in next to his bed. When he finally couldn't lie to himself anymore, Stiles relinquished. He had no idea where he was.  
The boy let out a startled yelp as he felt something small and furry scurry over his fingers, and shuffled back into what he suspected was the corner of the room. He wished he had more of an idea of where he was, but Stiles was encased in darkness. His only company being the cold, hard floor and the rats. Still, he scanned the dark room desperate for any sign of human life. Stiles squinted his eyes trying to make out any previously unnoticed shapes or movement. But, all his efforts got him was the sighting of a dim lightbulb hanging on the ceiling. He watched it flicker for a moment before it went out completely. Stiles shivered wondering what that meant for him. 

 

He didn't want to stay down here forever. He didn't want to become as much part of this room as the cobwebs and vermin. He had to get out, but he didn't know where to begin. He didn't even know where he was.  
Start at the beginning, he told himself, what happened that landed you here. Stiles thought through the events that took place yesterday, trying to figure out why he wasn't in bed. He recalled walking back from school. But, something stopped him from making it home. He...he...got in a fight with Jackson.  
Was this some form of revenge? The kid was filthy rich, maybe his father owned some abandoned building that Jackson found suitable for hiding bodies. No, that wasn't his style. Jackson would never risk his spotless criminal record by seriously messing someones life up. So why was he here? Something must have happened to lead him to this place...Stiles let out an audible groan. He remembered.

The memories came rushing back. The beautiful girl behind the trashcan. She had been crying, begging him for help. But, before he could do anything, something had hit him hard on the head.  
It at least explained the headache, Stiles thought sarcastically, and the momentary amnesia. It simply wasn't useful on helping him get out of the predicament he was currently in.

If he remembered correctly the girl hadn't even been hurt at all. In fact, it was her fault he was here in the first place. Stiles dropped his head against the wall, and groaned. Pain erupted in his skull, and his ears started ringing. He decided he deserved it. Seeing as he was an idiot. Next time, next time Stiles wouldn't be such a decent human being. Next time, he'd leave the girl alone no matter how hard she cried. 

Next time, he promised.

Next time, he'd be ready.

Next time...there would never be a next time if he didn't get out of this godsforsaken room.

 

It felt like a wave came crashing down on Stiles, soaking him in the hopelessness of reality. He was alone, he had been kidnapped, with no help in sight. Anxiety started to crawl up into the boy’s throat, threatening to choke him.  
No, he told himself firmly.  
Stiles took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. He was determined to stay calm. He had to escape. There was no other option, he wouldn't let there be. Feeling a rush of adrenaline, Stiles stood up, wanting to prepare himself for any unexpected blow. 

Correction, he tried to stand up. Stiles soon realized both his hands and feet were bound tightly in rope.

Stiles took another deep breath, refusing to panic. "It's ok, everything's ok," he told himself. Though he found it was getting harder and harder to convince himself of that. Trying not to look like a frantic fool, Stiles pulled at his bonds. He needed to undo the knot, or at least losen it so he could slip out. But, he had no such luck. He yanked, and tugged, and bit at the rope until his wrists were on fire from where they had been rubbed raw. He decided it was just going to have to be another injury to add to the growing list. And there was a list.

Stiles's entire body hurt. Every muscle, vein, and blood vessel felt like they had melted off his bones. He realized that even if he could stand up, there was no way he could protect himself. Again, Stiles had to swallow his panic. He tried to focus on something that would actually help him this time. 

The room smelled like mold, and death. Already he was off to a bad start. Stiles squinted his eyes, and looked around. Immediately he wished he was still blind to his surroundings.  
Dried, what he hoped was tomato juice, splattered the floors and walls.  
And, to his growing horror, pairs of shackles hung from the ceilings.

Not good, not good, not good. Stiles didn't know how long he could keep pretending everything was alright. Everything was clearly not alright. He had to get out of here. But, the only way he saw that happening was if someone came for him. Stiles wasn't delusional. The one man who might notice he was gone was likely at a bar drinking himself to death. Stiles would have to wait for his kidnappers. Yet, he knew if he did, he'd be a dead man. Stiles's only hope was to try and escape. But, the only exit he could see, was a big door to the left of the room. It was just his luck that that was the door he heard voices coming from.

With everything that had happened since Stiles woke up he almost forgot about the voices. But, now that he was paying attention, they were hard to miss. It sounded like two people arguing. Their voices loud enough to be heard through the thick walls. And, as they came closer, their words became understandable.

"-what am I supposed to do with the little beast, Allison. I don't know why ‘His fucking highness’ even accepted the little gremlin as payment anyway," a barely constrained voice growled from outside the room. 

Stiles quickly decided he never wanted to meet the man that voice belonged to. Though, he didn't think he had much of  a choice. It wasn't hard to figure out the two people were talking about him. Not that it answered any of his questions. In fact it only confused him more. What did they mean Stiles was 'payment'? But, before Stiles could contemplate it further the worst happened...the lock on the door turned. 

Fear gripped Stiles’s body, and refused to let go.  
In a moment of desperation, the boy frantically started twisting his wrists. He needed to get out of the tight hold his hands were in. But, his efforts only resulted in him feeling the sharp sting of rope burn. He couldn't help but hiss in pain.

"So sleeping beauty is awake" said a tall man with blonde, slicked back hair. He looked to be in his late thirties and had a psychotic glint in his sharp blue eyes. Stiles had seen a similar demeanor on Jackson, and even sometimes his father. He knew first hand nothing good came from a look like that. As if to prove him right, the man started digging in his pocket. To Stiles’s horror, he pulled out a switch blade. Running on instinct, Stiles tensed his muscles and curled in on himself, trying to protect any vital organs from the knife. But, to Stiles's surprise the man came over to him and started cutting away at his restraints 

A crazy thought started racing through Stiles's head. It was a stupid idea, but Stiles felt the urge to run itching under his skin. Run away from this man, run away from this prison, run away from his problems. Still, Stiles wasn't stupid. He wouldn't make it out of this room, never mind to the streets of New York. No, it was better for Stiles to bide his time, wait for the perfect moment to try and escape. It wasn't a great plan, but it was the only one he had. 

Stiles felt a sharp pain in his wrists and ankles as the man unceremoniously cut away at his bonds. Now that the rope wasn't cutting off the circulation, Stiles could clearly feel the cuts and burns the harsh material had left. He watched as blood started to run down his shaking arms, and couldn't stop the wave of fright that over took him.

"Where am I? What do you want from me?" Stiles asked the silent man frantically, letting his emotions get the better of him. In his moment of weakness, Stiles had forgotten just how dangerous the man in front of him was. He was forcibly reminded. The stranger grabbed Stiles’s chin, compelling him to look him in the eyes. Cold, unremorseful eyes.

"Shut up, boy. Get a goddamn grip. No one here is going to hold your hand and reassure you that you're alright. Least of all me. Frankly, I don't care if you live or die. You're worth less than the dirt I walk on," he growled shoving Stiles's head to the side. His sore skull cracked, again, as it connected with the wall behind him. Stiles clenched his eyes shut, and bit his lip to keep from crying out from the blinding pain. When he opened his eyes again the room was spinning. He knew he had to shake off the delirium though, he had to keep his guard up around this man. It helped that there was a pit of white hot anger in Stiles's gut that brought him back to his senses.  
Stiles had dealt with bullies all his life, and make no mistake that was all this man was. An overgrown bully. Stiles would not be pushed around or walked on or-

"You know what else you clearly don't care about," Stiles spat, the man's eyes went wide, like he hadn't expected Stiles to retaliate,"your breath. It smells like Limburger cheese fried in horse pee." 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Stiles was so dead. Why had he said that? Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut to save his life? Literally!? Rage shown brightly in the man's eyes, his anger pushing him over the edge, making him uncontrollable. The stranger grabbed Stiles by the hair, pulling it back so Stiles neck was exposed. He started to sweat when he felt the tip of the man's switchblade come in contact with the delicate skin.

"Never talk to me like that again brat, if it was up to me you would be dead,"  
The man snarled. He threw Stiles to the hard floor, the knife leaving a shallow stream of blood as he went. Stiles inhaled deeply to will away the pain. He glared at the man, hating everything about him. The kidnapper merely smirked at him. His unpredictable emotions back under control.  
"You want to know why you're here? You're here because your father didn't want you anymore. He sold you to us to pay off his debt to The Alpha." He finished with a little laugh, as if this was an every day occurrence. But, Stiles’s blood turned cold at his words.

 

"Sold me?" He recanted, not able to believe the words he was hearing,"What does that even mean?" Stiles asked trying to put on a brave face. This time, the mysterious man didn't need to put his hands on Stiles to know he had gotten under his skin. 

"It means," the man said crouching back down to the floor to look at Stiles, talking to him as if he were a child, "he cared more about himself then he did you. It means he abandoned you to serve my Alpha, whatever he wishes. It means no one's going to kiss your forehead goodnight anymore, little boy."

At that moment Stiles wanted nothing more then to spit in this man's face and call him a liar.  
He wanted nothing more then for his father, as much of a dead beat dad he was, to burst through the door and take Stiles home. But, the man spoke the truth. He was too cocky with his words, too sure of himself.  
Stiles hated to admit it, but this psychopath wasn't lying. A look of satisfaction crossed the man's face when he realized Stiles's defenses were crumbling. He didn't want to show his fear in front of this man, but he couldn't seem to stop his whole body from shaking uncontrollably. And, to Stiles’s dismay, it didn't go unnoticed by the man, who smirked gleefully. As if ruining peoples lives was a favorite hobby of his.

"You're pathetic," the man said and turned to walk out of the room,"you all are."  
Stiles refused.  
He refused to be lumped in with a bunch of nameless people. He refused to be reduced to nothing by a man who took pride in doing so. He refused to be forgotten.

"Fuck you," Stiles snarled at the man's retreating back.  
The man stopped.

Any ounce of bravery Stiles felt drained out of him in less than a second. He cursed his uncontrollable mouth, and the shit it got him into. He'd rather be alive and forgotten, than dead and remembered.  
The man turned around, fixing Stiles with his unnerving gaze. He cracked his knuckles and walked towards the boy slowly. Stiles didn't dare move. 

With every step he took towards Stiles, the boy scooted back until he felt the wall brush his back. Stiles found the scene familiar, but this time knew there was no way to escape. This wasn't little boys pretending to be bigger than they were. This was the real thing, and Stiles was a dead man.  
He didn't want to be scared. He wished he could tell you that he held his ground, and came up with a witty retort to the man's threatening actions. But, even Stiles had some sense of self preservation. He knew if he so much as hiccuped this man would have his tomato juice just like he had the unfortunate bastards before Stiles.

"Oh, Stiles," the man spit out Stiles's name like a curse word. "You should have kept your mouth shut, now...well now I get to kill you." The man pulled a gun out of the back pocket of his trousers, and gave Stiles a predatory grin.

This was it. This was where Stiles was going to die, this was the end... at least no one would miss him  
The man held the gun an inch away from Stiles's head... then lowered it. 

"PETER LEAVE THE BOY ALONE" shouted a very feminine, very high pitched voice. That fact only made her seem more formidable.  
Stiles's eyes shot to the newcomer. She had porcelain skin, chocolate brown hair, and amber eyes that shone with rage.  
He knew exactly who she was. This was the girl that got him captured in the first place. His mind immediately hardened at the thought. This was all her fault.  
But, she also just saved him from getting a bullet in the brain. Stiles was definitely getting mixed signals.

Yet, he didn't stay fixed on her too long, it was the person next to her that caught Stiles's eye.  
He was beautiful.  
His demeanor demanded respect.  
His visible scars showed he was a force to be reckoned with.  
Power rolled off him in waves, and his confident expression left no room for doubt.  
But, the most beautiful thing about this man, was his eyes.  
His hazel eyes had Stiles catching his breath, forgetting how to speak. Though they were filled with anger it wasn't directed at him, but at the man, Peter. Even he was smart enough to respect this man.

"Alpha," Peter said.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so much for leaving comments (we read them all) and reading this story. We didn’t expect to get so much attention with this story and we are so excited so without further hold up hope everyone enjoys chapter three  
> All the love

Derek had been filing paperwork in his office when she came in. The room had been quiet, tranquil. The only sound being the tick of the clock, and his pen against paper. He worked well without noise, though he hardly ever got it. Which is why he wasn't surprised when his office doors decided to burst open, letting in a hurricane.  
The familiar click of her heels was like heavy rain on the ground, her hair whipping like wild winds. But, it was her voice that reminded him the most of a storm. It was sharp, quick witted...

"You have to stop Peter," and struck fast like lightning.

Derek clenched his jaw, irritated. Allison didn't have the authority to demand anything from him, nor did she have the right to tell him what to do. A strong emotion in his gut demanded he remind her of her place. But, he merely smiled to himself. Like there was any chance of getting through that arrogant head of hers.  
So Derek simply went back to writing the letter he had been working on before she came in. Allison huffed out an infuriated sigh when she realized Derek wasn't taking her statement as seriously as she intended. She stood to her full height, deciding to take it upon herself to make him. Allison strut towards him with an air of superiority before plopping herself in the seat parallel to his. 

Derek rolled his eyes and waved his hand distractedly, silently telling her to start talking. But, he wasn't fazed when she waited for him to put down his pen before reporting. Allison was a proud woman who came from a proud family, he'd expect nothing less from her.

"The boy's in the basement..." she said, her voice sharp as a blade. Allison silently demanded his attention once again before saying any more. Derek stopped himself from out right laughing at her audacity. “I'm assuming that's not the reason you interrupted my work. If it is I'd say you're loosing your touch," he quipped.

Allison smiled viciously,"Peter is with him." 

Derek's sardonic facade fell, replaced by genuine anger.  
"You know Peter isn't stable when it comes to hostages Allison, you shouldn't have left the two of them alone," he growled at her, and rose from his chair, paperwork forgotten.   
Allison merely smirked at his reaction. 

"Call it karma. You knew Lydia and I were supposed to go out last night, you should've gotten Erica to capture the boy. She's been itching to go out on a mission for a while now," Allison said, her own anger as tangible as Derek's.

"And I should warn you, Lydia's rather pissed. You'll have to find a way back into her good graces...so will I," Allison said giving him a nasty look. 

"You know I didn't have a choice," Derek said truthfully,"I couldn't send Erica out with Peter, remember what she did to him last time?" Allison rolled her eyes.  
Derek knew what he had risked last night when he called in his friend. Lydia Martin's wrath was a terrifying thing to behold. 

"Let's just go save your new slave from Peter," Allison said.  
Derek winced. Winning back her forgiveness wasn't going to be easy either.  
But, he put that thought to the back of his mind as he and Allison made their way to the basement. There was a slave, as Allison put it, that needed rescuing.  
.  
.  
.  
Normally, when a child was taken as ransom, it was a threat to their parents. It was a cruel, but effective way of collecting his cash. If Derek didn't receive his money in a days time, the child would become his. It was a power play that Derek had never lost. Until now.  
Most parents immediately coughed up the money to insure their child's safe return.  
But, something was different about the way the former Sheriff acted when Derek threatened him.  
Derek had looked in his eyes, expecting to see fear at the thought of losing his child. But, he didn't seem panicked at the threat, no the Sherriff had looked... relieved. 

Derek had recoiled, disgusted.

What parent willingly gave up their child? To a well known criminal no less. Derek had been raised on the ideals that family was the most important thing in life. You could always trust family, family would never turn their back on you. This man didn't deserve a family. The former Sheriff, who had once stood for everything good in the city, would rather trade his son's life then give Derek the money he owed. In a moment of weakness, Derek had taken pity on the son of this man. He struck a deal with the Sherriff. His son, Stiles, would be considered payment. The Sherriff would walk away, a debt free man.

Maybe Derek shouldn't have accepted the deal. Maybe he should have tortured the disgusting man until he gave Derek what was owed.

But, he didn't.  
For some reason Derek had agreed to the bargain, and now he had to clean up the mess he made. The problem; Derek didn't have time for some little kid to cause issues.  
Derek was not a baby sitter, he wouldn't coddle this kid. If the boy ended up being too much of a hassle, Derek had no problems shooting him through his skull. A quick, painless death, see Derek could be merciful. 

The mafia boss chuckled darkly.

For the meantime, he'd probably make Stiles, Scott or Allison's responsibility. They would test him out, see if he could be useful.  
But, to give the boy a chance, Derek had to make sure Peter didn't kill him first.  
Derek locked the door to his office, and joined Allison to go to the basement.  
Derek and his pack all lived in the same apartment building. A couple years ago, he had bought the rundown property and hired renovators to give it a new face. The reconstruction hadn't been cheep, but it had paid off when Derek saw the new Hale Pack Mafia headquarters for the first time. Besides, money wasn't an issue for him. He had a fortune that only kept growing with every person he bought.

The city thought Derek ran an honorary business, and on one hand he did. He ran a chain of high class restaurants all around New York.  
His office for that establishment could be found on the upper floors of his building.  
What they didn't know was what exactly Derek and his Pack did after hours. Nor did he ever plan on enlightening them.  
One of the Packs most frequented parts of the building was the Interrogation Rooms. A series of sound proof rooms underground that make it easy to muffle screaming. Needless to say, that was where they were going.

The duo finally reached the rusted door that led to the basement, and Derek pulled out the key. The door was always kept locked for obvious reasons, and only Derek had means of opening it. With a soft 'click' the door opened.  
Almost immediately Peter's voice sounded from the black abyss. Allison inhaled sharply, and rushed down the stairs.  
Derek watched her retreating form with wonder.  
Allison's care for others never ceased to surprise him. The girl lied and killed for a living, but still managed to show kindness to those who deserved it. Derek didn't share her sentiment, but he respected it. 

The Alpha walked down the stairs with a graceful ease, feeling no need to rush as his partner had. He had been in so many similar situations, his urgency had simply...slipped away. Besides, he trusted Allison to fix the situation. She wasn't one of his most trusted members for nothing.  
The sounds of yelling grew louder as Derek reached the bottom of the stairs. A blind man could make his way through the hallways with all the noise his pack mates were making, and Derek grumbled, annoyed at there lack of professionalism.

Derek opened the door to his left, and as expected, found his people in the middle of a pissing match.  
Allison was glaring Peter down, seeming like she was a step away from killing him. She didn't need to speak for Peter to know he'd be a dead man if he hurt the captive.  
On the other side was Derek's Uncle. The man was tall, and broad, and almost had more scars than Derek. His features were what gave him an edge, he was truly terrifying to look at. But physical appearance meant very little when dealing with Allison, Peter knew that well. With little hesitation, the older man lowered his weapon. But, Derek could see Peter physically shaking with anger. 

The Alpha scowled, he was getting fed up with Peter's antics. The older man constantly let his emotions run wild, he was rash, and got heated too quickly. How could Derek trust him with real jobs if he couldn't trust him to watch a child? Derek made a mental note to deal with the Peter later. The man's lack of control made him weak, and Derek wouldn't permit it anymore. 

Still, the situation before him was expected with what Derek did on a daily basis. Had it gone as smoothly as Derek would have wanted, no, but Allison had a firm grip on the situation. There wasn't much for Derek to do. Yet, as the Alpha turned away to go back to his office, something caught his eye. No, not something...

Someone.

Bruises lay, scattered along his body, black and blue marring the otherwise porcelain skin. Tears had managed to leak down his fragile face, though the only reason Derek noticed was because of the paths they created in the grime that covered the boy. Blood from a cut on his forehead added to the mess, tainting him red. But, worst of all, he was shaking from head to toe. From fear or pain Derek couldn't tell. Likely both.  
But, even then, the boy was beautiful.  
Stiles, a voice in the back of his head whispered. This was not some random person, this was Stiles.

Derek was in shock. This was not the child he had been expecting. Stiles was practically a man. Though he looked like he was still growing into his lanky limbs, and was terribly skinny, Derek could see the fight in him.  Stiles's eyes shown brightly with it. 

Everything about Stiles radiated compliant.  
Until you looked into his eyes.  
His brown eyes were speckled with touches of gold, almost like honey. They rang with defiance and anger. Stiles was scared, anyone could see that. But, he was one to stand up for himself. Derek already admired him for it.  
He hummed quietly to himself, aware Stiles's gaze had landed on him. He looked to be hoping he'd wake up any second from a nightmare. Derek wouldn't stand for it.  
An unprecedented possessive rage tugged at the Alpha's gut. From just one look, he knew he had to help Stiles. And, knowing that Peter had hurt him left a cold ache in his body. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Derek stated calmly. Even though he had already thought of about ten different ways to make Peter beg for mercy. He wasn't like Allison, he didn't give people quick, painless deaths. Derek would drag this out until Peter wished he was ten feet under.   
Everyone knew there was one rule Derek was strict about. One rule, if broken, meant you better sleep with one eye open. 

 

No one touched Derek's property.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

"What the hell do you think you're doing," growled the man. Stiles attempt not to shiver failed, he chalked it up to the fact that he was terrified. As he should be. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to pay attention that this was the man in charge, he radiated a control no one questioned.

"Alpha," Peter said calmly, though there was a hint of uneasiness Stiles hadn't detected before. Peter was afraid of this newcomer. “To whom do I owe the pleasure." The older man said in a smooth voice. But, shot a glare towards the girl, who was clearly not one to back down. She wasn't even looking at Stiles and he couldn't meet her gaze. 

A hard slap echoed throughout the room, and Stiles cringed. Peter stumbled back from the impact of the blow, a look of shock on his face. This 'Alpha' of their's apparently saw straight through Peter's mask.  
"Cut the crap Peter. When I sent you on this assignment I was specific in my orders, was I not?"

Peter bristled where he stood,"Yes, sir." The Alpha's tone only grew harsher.

"Well apparently you didn't catch the drift, so let me reiterate. You were given no orders to harm or threaten the captive. Do you remember?"

Peter had murder in his eyes,"Yes, sir." 

The Alpha stepped closer to Peter until they were nose to nose,"We will be talking about this, make no mistake," each word laced with poison.  
A moment of fear passed Peter's features, but just as quickly he schooled his face nto one of indifference.  
"As you wish," he spat, walking a thin line. The Alpha glared at the man, deciding how to respond to the clear disrespect. Stiles was afraid a full out brawl was about to take place, but the Alpha only smirked. As if he knew Peter would be eating his words in only moments. The man turned away from his lackey, a crisp sign the conversation was over. Stiles relaxed slightly, sensing the danger had passed, only to immediately tense up a second later. The Alpha's attention had turned towards Stiles, and when you had the Alpha's attention, you had everyone's attention. The man started to make his way over to the boy, who was frozen in place. Stiles instinctively curled in on himself, prepared for a blow. But it never came.  
As soon as the Alpha had seen Stiles stiffen, he stopped. Hands were raised in a show of truce.

 "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to bring you to a more comfortable room. You'll be able to clean yourself up, and eat. No one will bother you."

Part of Stiles knew better then to trust this man. He seemed to control people with a flick of his wrist. And, as far as he could tell, was to blame for Stiles entire dilemma. This man was probably the most dangerous person he had ever met. But, something about his melodic voice soothed Stiles, made him trust him. Without words, Stiles nodded, allowing the man to help. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Derek felt the knot in his stomach unfurl. He hadn't known how Stiles would react to him. How trusting was he? Would he let Derek carry him? He didn't think Stiles would be able to stand without support, and Derek refused to leave him down here. Luckily, it didn't come to that.  
Stiles let him help. In fact Stiles seemed to trust him. It surprised and worried Derek equally. He'd have to teach Stiles to be more wary of people in this line of business. But, that was for another time. Putting that thought to the back of his head, Derek swooped in and picked Stiles up in his arms. The smaller man tensed, not expecting the sudden change in altitude. But, eventually he melted into the strong hold.  
Protection surged through Derek. The thought that Stiles felt safe in his arms settling him. 

Derek carried Stiles out of the filthy room, then turned back to address his packmates.  
"Make sure the upstairs is cleared out. I don't want anyone to see him yet," he said to Allison. With a single nod of acknowledgement, she was gone. Then he turned to Peter, who looked like he was trying to disappear into shadow.  
"You," Derek said much colder, "stay here."  
"Yes, Alpha," Peter replied.  
Derek left the room in a hurry to get Stiles safe. They went in silence up the stairs onto the main floor, then up another level to Derek's room.

Opening the door, Stiles made an involuntary sound of surprise. The room was the definition of luxurious. The walls were a deep burgundy and the finest of furniture was scattered around the room. In the center a king sized bed, made..well...for an Alpha.  
Derek smirked, all too smug at Stiles's reaction. Carefully, he made his way to the bed and lay Stiles down on it.

"You'll stay here until I return. In the mean time you can take a bath and freshen yourself up, the bathroom is the door to the left. When I come back I'll bring you a fresh pair of clothes and some food." Derek normally would have his packmates run these menial tasks, but the thought of any of them seeing Stiles so vulnerable didn't sit well with him. So, with one last glance to the boy in his bed, Derek left to take care of business. He was almost out the door, when a quiet voice stopped him.

"Thank you..." Stiles said in a low whisper, Derek had to strain to hear.  
His voice made Derek internally wince, it was hoarse from lack of use...and screaming. Derek felt a flash of guilt, he  was the reason Stiles was hurt in the first place. Stiles had no idea what Derek had done, and he was thanking him for it. 

"You have nothing to thank me for..." the Alpha told him honestly, then left the room.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since its Christmas we though we’d update twice this week  
> Thank you for all your comments and kudos Merry Christmas (or any other holiday you celebrate❤️)

"You have nothing to thank me for..."

The phrase bounced against the walls of Stiles's mind, over and over again. 

"You have nothing to thank me for..."

Stiles stood from the bed the Alpha had laid him on, and started pacing the room. He had thanked him, what was he thinking!?!

"You have nothing to thank me for..."

He punched the wall, one...two...three times before pulling back his fist. When he looked down he was bleeding, again.

With a defeated sigh, Stiles flopped back onto the bed. He didn't bother dwelling on the fact that it looked like someone had slept in it, and definitely ignored the possibility of it being the one person he thought it might be. 

"You have nothing to thank me for..." 

It had been the most honest statement Stiles had heard all day. The man was absolutely right. Stiles had nothing to thank him for. In fact, from what he had gathered, the man was to blame for it all. In case the Alpha had forgotten, Stiles had been in that room. He heard with his own ears who was responsible for his kidnapping. Stiles had sat in fear while the man, unknowingly, confessed to orchestrating the entire operation. If it wasn't for him Stiles would be home right now. He didn't care that the Alpha had saved him from getting a bullet through the brain. No good deed that man did could change the fact that he was guilty. And, the Alpha was guilty, make no mistake.

Stiles had seen men like him from time to time. They made you think they were good people, made you think you could let your guard down. They manipulated you into trusting them, and then pulled the floor out from under you, laughing, as they watched you fall.  
This man was violent, and cruel. But, what made it worse was that he was smart, and that made him unpredictable. He had the resources to crush entire cities, and the brains to know precisely where to strike. The Alpha was meticulous and cunning. He lay in waiting, a wolf prepared to attack.

And, here lay Stiles, a willing rabbit. 

He had been a fool, a downright fool for trusting this man even for a second. Shame flushed through him as he remembered the man's hands on him, holding him, protecting him as if they were lovers. He was embarrassed at how weak he had been, how willingly he had lay in those arms. But, what Stiles hated most, what struck him at his core, was that he had felt safe there...it sickened him.

Stiles should hate the man, hate him with every fiber of his being.  
Stiles was more alone now than he'd ever been. He'd just lost the only person in his life that he thought he could trust...his father. His father had sold him. Knowing he was forsaking his only child to the mercy of a monster. 

Stiles had never expected anything from his father. Not food on the table, not a house to keep them warm, not even a hello in the morning. But, even with his low expectations, his father still managed to surprise him. No, that was wrong, Stiles wasn't surprised. Nothing about this situation made him surprised. Stiles was hurt.  
His father had abandoned him, left him in the hands of someone who might kill him tomorrow.  
Stiles froze at the thought, realizing just how true it was. The possibility of dying had just become a very tangible reality. But, even as that thought ran through his head, Stiles knew it was false. All the Alpha had done was save him, care for him. He had kept Peter at bay, he had brought Stiles out of the hellhole that was his prison, and had left Stiles in a room worth more than his life with a promise to come back with clothes and food. This man had been kinder to Stiles in a day, than his own father had been to him in years. Going strictly by facts alone, Stiles was better off here than anywhere else. 

The boy shivered, disgusted with his own mind. 

This was all wrong, and Stiles refused to believe it. Dad had loved him..right? If he returned home now his father would greet him with open arms. He would cry and apologize for all his shortcomings, and beg for Stiles's forgiveness. The Alpha had ruined everything. This was all his fault, and Stiles hated him.

Stiles exhaled, if only he could convince himself of that.

The boy groaned and picked himself up off the mattress. His aching body screamed in protest, but he ignored it. Stiles couldn't seem to care after the day he had. All he wanted now was a nice bath, and to sleep for the rest of his life. Hopefully, he'd wake up in his own bed tomorrow and realize this had all been a dream. But, Stiles didn't let himself linger to much on that thought, for he had a terrible feeling he would be disappointed in the morning. Well, he decided, taking a look around a room, if he was going to be stuck in this place the least he could do was take advantage of the running water.

~~~~~~~~~~

Derek, slowly closed the door to his room, trying to keep an eye on Stiles until the last possible moment. He only needed to keep control of his temper a little longer, at least until Stiles was out of earshot. Derek had known if his presence came across as soothing and calm, Stiles would feel safer. The last thing he needed was the boy screaming bloody murder as Derek carried him through the hotel. But, it hadn't been easy to maintain the facade, Derek constantly had to remind himself to hide any traces of emotion. And, now that Stiles was out of range, Derek felt his precariously placed control quickly slipping away. A raging fire had been set a flame in his gut, and now that he was able to sustain it, he only burned brighter.

The picture of the boy, bloody and broken, would forever burn in Derek's mind. There were few memorable times in his life that Derek had truly felt like a monster, but this was coming close to making the list. Stiles had been physically and mentally tormented by Derek's men. Even though it wasn't under his order, it was gnawing away at his morals, which was something he forgot he had, and quickly found he didn't like. These intense...emotions were throwing Derek for a loop. Which was why he was so adamant about never letting a similar incident happen again. That was why he had to confront Peter, that was why his anger was reaching uncontrollable levels. Derek refused to be called a leader of an unruly pack of children.

Derek stalked through the corridors of his home, moving swiftly down the stairs to get to the basement. Peter wasn't getting away from him this time. Knowing the older man, he had probably slithered away in hopes Derek had forgotten about him. The Alpha felt a hint of shame as he realized how often that exact thing had happened in the past. But, not this time, this time it had gone too far. Peter would face his long overdue retribution. 

Derek flung open the door to the basement, hearing it close with a bang. There were almost no lights down in the cold, dank cellar, as to intimidate any prisoners. Fear was as great a weapon as a gun, but Derek refused to let his own design get to him.

"Peter," he growled, knowing the man would show himself if he was there. Derek was met with silence, which only made him suspicious. There was always some noise going on down here whether that was tortured screams or the scurrying of rodents. With one hand on the gun in his belt, Derek made to inspect every crevice of the basement before deciding Peter had left. Minutes ticked by, but no matter where he looked, Derek didn't find anything. He was about to turn back and have one of his pack mates find the man, until his gaze landed on a door. What had been closed before was now creaking its way open. Derek had his gun out in a matter of seconds. 

"Who's there," he demanded, letting it known that answering was not a request. He waited a moment for a reply, but got no response. Derek grumbled and lowered his weapon slightly, he was sure that door hadn't been open before. He decided to try one more thing before going back to Stiles. Derek made to turn away then, without warning, kicked the door open with a bang. A grunt of pain sounded from behind the door, and Derek burst into the room, ready for a fight. Just like with all the other rooms, it was nearly pitch black, but there was enough light to make out the silhouette of a body. Before the person could make a move, Derek grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the concrete wall. Once there, he tightened his fist until his forefinger and thumb were practically touching. As if on que, the man started to gasp for air and claw at Derek's hand trying to loosen the grip. The mafia boss could feel the man's pulse beating rhythmically, picking up pace every second. Derek had it down to a science, in only a few seconds that beat...would...stop.  
"Derek.." the person wheezed out. 

That voice... he recognized that--Derek pulled his hand away, as if from a heated stove top.  
The man dropped to the floor, sucking in air as would a drowning man.  
"Peter," Derek growled, quickly regaining his composure. Peter not so much.  
"You should have answered me the first time I called for you."  
Peter coughed once more before answering.  
"I didn't hear you call-''  
Derek cracked his knuckles, didn't Peter know lying would only make it worse for him. The Alpha grabbed the older man from the floor, this time by his shirt collar, and threw him against the wall.  
"What did I say about pulling that crap, Peter?" 

Peter, who had once again fallen to the floor, had gotten the wind knocked out of him and couldn't respond.  
"What did I say," the Alpha roared at him. Taking twisted pleasure from the fear in Peter's eyes. 

Peter flinched where he lay, but answered this time. "Not...tolerated."  
Derek smirked, "I might finally be getting through to you. I think you've gotten the message-'''

"What is it about him?" Peter gasped out, interrupting Derek. Derek's eyes narrowed in warning, but Peter continued. "I’ve maimed and tortured prisoner after prisoner some with your consent, some without. What makes him so different? What makes him so special that you would harm your own flesh and blood. Did you even see him, Derek? He was pathetic. Crying over a few bumps and bruises, you should have let me kill him Derek, he won't be of any use to-"  
Derek punched him. He couldn't have stopped himself if he tried, which was a dangerous thing. But, right now he didn't care, all he could see was red.  
Peter's jaw cracked from the impact of the punch, the man groaned but made no other indication he was hurt.  
Yet, when he turned back to look at Derek, blood was seeping from his swollen lip. 

Derek smirked. He had gotten under his Uncle's skin whether he would admit it or not. 

"All this," Peter croaked out, "For a weak, pathetic-"  
Derek ground his foot against Peter's ankle, a hairs breadth away from breaking it. Peter moaned in pain.  
"Yes, Peter, all this for Stiles. Why? Well it's more of an answer then you deserve, but I'll give it to you. That boy, that you call weak and pathetic has much more in him than you realize." 

Peter kept his mouth shut, his eyes burned with anger, but he kept his mouth shut. Finally. Derek smirked knowing he had won. He stepped off of Peter's ankle, the man pulled his foot towards him to inspect the damage.  
"Go tell Lydia I told her to patch you up, after that I don't care what you do just stay far away from Stiles." Peter nodded and stood up to limp out of the room, as fast as he could.  
Derek turned away from the door once Peter was officially out of his sight. He hated to admit it, but was Peter truly wrong?  
Why was Derek all of a sudden so protective of someone he had never met before? Why was he so sure of Stiles who he didn't know, but so wary of his Uncle someone he had known for years? The second he had seen Stles everything had changed, and Derek didn't know what to make of it. Of any of it. He sighed rubbing his hand down his face. These questions were far too intense for him to be thinking of after the day he had. Derek trudged up the stairs, the last of his adrenaline leaving him. He made two quick stops for food and clothes for Stiles, doubting the boy would still be awake to eat or change. It was so early in the morning it was still dark out, and when Derek got to his room he was too delirious to notice the extra body in his bed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank everybody so much reading and liking and leaving kudos and comments tysm u cute all the love hope u like this chapter things happen

Dust particles floated silently in the air as warm sunlight streamed onto Stiles's face through the curtains. Still half asleep, the boy crinkled his nose in distaste, turning away from the window. He was not fond of being woken up before late morning. Stiles snuggled deeper into the soft, silk sheets underneath him, and the warm body that was wrapped around his own. Muscular arms cocooned him, and he nuzzled his face into the crook of someone's neck. He shivered as the heat from the person's body engulfed him.

He felt safe.

He felt secure.

Something was wrong...

Stiles's self preservation instinct flared up, and a bitter feeling burned in his gut. He snapped open his eyes, not prepared to come face to face with a bare torso. The boy immediately went rigid. With a shriek, Stiles would later deny making, the boy flailed off the bed and onto the floor. His legs tangled around the covers, and fell to the ground with him. More like on him. 

"What the hell?" Stiles moaned, rubbing his newly sore backside, and pulled the comforter off his head. What he saw didn't make him feel any better. 

The man, who was apparently a very light sleeper, had awoken as soon as Stiles had kicked him on his fall to the ground. Sleep still sat heavily in the man's eyes, but his body was stiff and ready for a fight. His intent quite clear when Stiles noticed the gun in his hand. 

"What the hell!?" Stiles said again, this time louder with a lot more panic. The man's gaze immediately jumped to Stiles, who was in the process of scooting as far away from the weapon as possible. But, he froze once the man's eyes pinned him down. Goosebumps rose on Stiles's arms as he realized who the man was. Stiles had been sleeping with- worse, cuddling with The Alpha. Stiles had to stop himself from gagging, he had lay in the arms of a killer. 

But, The Alpha ignored the obvious discomfort on the boy's face. Realizing that there was no impending danger, he unloaded the gun and threw it on the bed. An exasperated scowl on his face.

"Stiles...why the hell are you screaming at six o' clock in the morning?" The Alpha demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Stiles recoiled, knowing his head had lain there only a few minutes prior. But, that wasn't the worst of it. Stiles had burrowed deeper into the man, because he had been comfortable. Comfortable being held by someone he hated. Stiles blinked hard, willing himself to calm down, and forced his gaze elsewhere. But, anywhere he looked, the boy was restless. There wasn't a safe area on The Alpha to focus on. The man's eyes were filled with a murderous glint, and his hands were clenched as if to strangle Stiles, leading him back to the man's chest. Which made him feel sick because- 

"Stiles!" The man snapped, grabbing the boy's attention from the other side of the room, and stopping his mental descent into an anxiety ridden spiral.

"Answer me." Stiles's head snapped up at the sound of his voice, feeling more vulnerable then he had in a long time. 

"How...do you know my name?" Stiles asked trying to look nonchalant as he brushed invisible lint off his shirt. He was desperately trying to avoid answering the Alpha's original question, due to mortification. What had conspired between the two in the night was something Stiles never wanted to admit outloud, nor did he want to give the man the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten under Stiles's skin. He refused, from that point forward to ever make anything easy for The Alpha again. Stiles would never forget what the man had done, and what it had cost him. Was he terrified? Yes, there was no point in hiding it. If the Alpha knew his name, what else did he know about him? But, Stiles wasn't a fool for nothing. He practically got off on pushing limits, and seeing how much he could bend the rules. If he was going to die by the hands of the Alpha, he might as well make it worth it. With that in mind, Stiles picked himself up off the ground, and hastily got to his feet. He would meet the Alpha toe to toe, even if he felt like a newborn faun trying to stand for the first time. Which he did. Stiles wasn't prepared for his bodies screaming resistance to movement, and was quick to realize exactly how much pain he was still in from his previous encounters. The boy had to bite his cheek hard to avoid making any sound of pain that was begging to be released. The last thing he needed was for this man to exploit Stiles's weakness.

But, at first, The Alpha didn't even notice Stiles's delema. No, he was too busy being surprised at Stiles's response, or lack there of. The Alpha's own prisoner had just talked back to him, and he found he was in a state of shock. At first, the man had half a mind to force Stiles to answer his question before giving him any reply to his own. But, reigned himself in when he realized who he was talking to. The Alpha was surrounded by people who followed his orders twenty-four seven, he had forgotten how foreign this all was to an outsider. So, when he noticed the physical pain and fear Stiles was trying so desperately to hide, he decided to take it easy on the boy. 

"I had people follow you for weeks, they collected information on you. One of those things being your name. Now answer me. Why were you screaming?"

But, Stiles completely ignored him, instead choosing to ask another question.  
"What's your name?" He asked curiously. The Alpha's eyes went comically wide, before squinting in clear distaste. He could only tolerate so much disrespect at once, good excuse or not. 

"I mean, it's only fair you tell me really. You know my name, I didn't have a choice in that. Now you have to tell me yours."  
The man grit his teeth, he didn't have to do anything. He was heir to a fortune, and ran the biggest crime organization in America. He was respected, he was feared, he was-

"Please," Stiles said with big brown eyes that seemed to stare straight into The Alpha's soul.

"...call me Derek. Now, why were you scream-''

"Derek, that's not a bad name. Its a bit boring if I'm honest, but I like-''

"Stiles," Derek growled, efficiently cutting off the boy's rambling. Stiles stopped twitching, and looked straight into Derek's eyes. Derek studied the boy, and didn't know whether to slap him or start laughing. Stiles knew exactly what he was doing. He was avoiding Derek's question, and trying to drive him crazy at the same time. It seemed he had stumbled upon a smart little bastard.

The two men stared at eachother in a silent will of power before Stiles broke, too afraid of the consequences.   
"Well, it's not everyday I wake up to some random person spooning me. Especially, a person who seems to be very comfortable shooting a gun, seeing as he sleeps with one under his pillow."  
Derek froze. A strange feeling crept into his cheeks, making them go warm. It kind of felt like... embarrassment. Derek scowled, and refused to meet Stiles's gaze. He wasn't embarrassed, he couldn't be embarrassed. He was just...surprised. The night before he hadn't bothered to question if someone was in his bed, he never let anyone stay the night. But, of course Stiles would want to sleep after the day he had. Derek had been so drained from the entire affair that as soon as his head hit the pillow it had been lights out. He never planned to wake up cuddling his own hostage. 

Derek could only growl in frustration. He didn't know how to act around Stiles. He wasn't like normal prisoners Derek took in, obviously. But, he also wasn't familiar enough with the boy to let his guard down. Derek's gaze pinned Stiles where he stood. He was frail, and had an air of innocence to him that had captured the Alpha at first sight. But, then he opened his mouth, and he was cunning, sarcastic, smart, and had Derek completely hooked. 

Derek bristled, he was not hooked. He just knew what intrigued him. Still, he quickly decided to get off this certain topic.

"Take off your shirt and get on the bed," he ordered the boy, going to grab salve from the nightstand. 

Stiles practically choked,"What?...No!"

Derek glared at the boy,"You have bruises and cuts all over you that will get infected if we don't do something about it, so take off your shirt and get on the bed." His tone left no room for argument. What he had done, saving Stiles, had been a choice made out of weakness. But, he found he didn't have the willpower to fix his mistake. So, the least he could do was make his own prisoner follow orders. Stiles shivered at the tone Derek used. He couldn't forget who he was dealing with. He had to be careful with what he said, and choose his battles wisely. The boy was in pain and Derek was forcing him to receive medical attention. No matter how awkward it might be, this was not a battle Stiles wanted to fight.

Sending an angry glare at Derek's back, Stiles stripped off his shirt and climbed back onto the bed. The sheets he once thought of as soft, and comfortable, were now scratchy and irritating. The warmth, and safeness he had felt merely minutes ago had been replaced by paranoia, and his body was stiff as a board. That was the picture Derek witnessed when he turned back around to face the boy. He immediately knew something had to be done. Derek would only succeed in hurting the boy more if he didn't relax first, which was something that didn't interest the Alpha at all. He was trying to help Stiles, not injure him further. Derek sighed knowing what had to be done.

"Stiles, calm down," the Alpha mumbled, trying to use a soothing tone of voice, but failing miserably. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows, annoyance written clearly on his features.

"Wow, I wonder why I didn't think of that," he said, his words laced with sarcasm. 

Derek clenched his fists. Couldn't Stiles see he was just trying to help? If the boy would simply loosen up, this would go much smoother. Part of Derek didn't care, if Stiles didn't want to listen to him it was his fault. When he ended up with sore muscles, he could only blame himself. Maybe that would teach Stiles a lesson, and show him that it was in his best interest to listen to what Derek had to say. But, when Derek reached for Stiles, and the boy flinched, he sighed. 

"Stiles, do what I say," Derek said trying to keep the frustration out of his voice,"I'm trying to help you relax so this doesn't hurt as much." 

The Alpha could see the answer warring in Stiles's eyes. He knew this wasn't easy for him. Stiles saw this as a will of power. If he did what Derek wanted him to, he'd be giving in to a monster. If he didn't, he would be in pain. He didn't know what to do. What if Derek was lying to him? What if he was going to drug Stiles? What if he only hurt Stiles more? But, then Stiles glanced at Derek's face. It was open, and honest, a look Stiles hadn't seen since he got here.

"Fine," Stiles relented, and laid back on the bed. Derek let out a breath, surprised the boy had given in. Knowing, still, that this wasn't going to be easy.

"The first thing you have to do is close your eyes." Already, Derek could see Stiles pulling back from the request, but he wasn't going to let him. Derek placed his hands on the bed and loomed over Stiles, wanting to look the boy in the face.

"I'm not going to hurt you Stiles. I'm not even going to touch you for this part, all you need to do is close your eyes," there was genuine fear on Stiles's face, and Derek almost felt guilty. But, Stiles's eyes did close, and any trace of emotion was gone. 

"Take a deep breath, and let it go slowly," when Stiles complied, Derek continued. 

"Good, now every time you exhale imagine your muscles relaxing." Derek's instructions kept going until Stiles's body was fully pliable and he was almost asleep again. Reaching behind him, Derek grabbed the container of medicine, its scent filling the air. Not recognizing the foreign smell, Stiles tensed. Derek quickly picked up on it.

"You're ok, I promise. I'm not going to hurt you, but I need to put this on your skin. Trust me." A pregnant pause filled the air, Derek waited for an answer.

 

"I don't trust you," Stiles finally muttered almost too low for Derek to hear.  
The Alpha smiled wickedly, thankful the boy still had his eyes closed.

"You shouldn't. I'm going to start now." Stiles's brow furrowed, he hadn't expected that response. But, Derek didn't bother addressing the statement, already starting. 

Gently, he put tiny globs of medicine on the cuts and bruises that looked the worst. Stiles twitched at first, not expecting the coolness of the salve. Though, it didn't take long for him to relax when he noticed that it was soothing the constant irritation. Derek continued delicately rubbing the cream into the wounds and muscles of the boy, trying to get him to loosen up his body as much as possible. There were multiple new scratches and bruises scattered along Stiles's front and back. But, underneath the fresh wounds, there were traces of yellow bruising and scars that looked to be weeks old. Derek didn't want to consider what had happened to earn Stiles those. He also noticed fresh cuts on the boy's knuckles, that Derek couldn't place what from. But, he knew from experience, some things you didn't ask about. 

Stiles grimaced at the shots of pain that Derek's touch caused when he started putting more pressure into his movements. His body was still sensitive from his encounter with Peter, yet he couldn't help but notice the amount of attention and care Derek was putting into this. The boy felt like he was floating in the sky without a care in the world. His consciousness somewhere between asleep and awake.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked. Stiles broke out of the reverie of his mind. Still, only able to answer Derek with a mumble. 

"Mmhm, m'fine." Derek rolled his eyes at the dramatic change in Stiles's behavior, it was almost comical. Stiles had gone from flinching from his hands, to melting into a puddle from a light touch. Derek couldn't deny the strong urge that consumed him, he wanted to touch Stiles more. Wanted to figure out what made him tick. But, as if a switch had been turned, Derek moved from the bed. All contact with Stiles removed. 

"I'm done, you can get up." Derek said in a clipped tone as he wiped his hands on his night pants. It took a moment for Stiles to bring himself back from his state of bliss. The sudden change in the Alpha dousing him like cold water. But, once he was fully back, he tensed, embarrassment heating his cheeks. 

‘God damn it,’ Stiles thought to himself, lifting his body from the bed, scrambling to get far away from Derek. He swiftly turned away from the man to urgently put his shirt on. When he turned back around, gone was the man who had saved him and then taken care of him. In his place, The Alpha that tore people apart for fun. Stiles's heart hardened. 

"Thanks for that," he spat, and ran from the room. Slamming the door closed behind him.

Derek shook his head knowing that Stiles wouldn't get far. He stalked out the door a second after Stiles, and turned to his right. There, waiting in the shadows, hid a figure.

"Don't let him out of your sight." Without a sound, the shadowed figure was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long and for any spelling/grammer mistakes

Stiles was running, running without any intent to stop. He was veering down hallways without a clue as to where he was going, though he was certain he didn't care as long as it was away from here. He needed to leave before Derek got so far under his skin, Stiles wouldn't be able to get rid of him. 

Stiles's eyes went wide, when out of no where, he found himself falling to the ground. At the last second, Stiles flung out his arms to try and stop his decent. He managed to catch himself before he procured any more injuries. But, once he was stable it took everything in him not to collapse in a heap. 

Stiles looked behind him to see what he had tripped over, but found nothing. Part of him found that odd, the other part was too mentally and physically exhausted to investigate further. Stiles knew he needed a moment to rest. The boy lay panting as if he had been running for hours instead of minutes. He wanted to go home. Even if home was a beat up apartment, and a beat down father. Stiles wanted to go back to familiarity. His past had been miserable, but he knew what to expect from it. If there was one thing Stiles had always known it was that he would always be hungry, he would never have a full nights sleep, and he would always have to take care of himself because no one else would.

And then he had ended up here. The room he left had practically been lined with gold, and he had gotten a good nights rest for the first time in years. Food had been laid on a tray in heaps at the side of the room, though Stiles had only noticed when he was leaving. But, worst of all, the only reason he had any of it was because of Derek. Derek who saved him from Peter, who gave him a place to stay, who cared for his bruises, and brought him food. Derek who had ripped away his freedom. A pretty prison was still a prison. Stiles knew Derek didn't actually care what happened to him. He knew not to get too comfortable around the Alpha and to always be on his guard. He couldn't let himself get pulled into the man's trap, because as soon as he felt comfortable, Derek would take it all away. Just as he had back in that room. Stiles had let his guard down, and Derek had pounced. Then, when he was satisfied, had discarded Stiles with a single comment. And, for some reason, Stiles had been hurt. It hadn't been an intense feeling by any means, but there had been a soft pang in his gut before he had buried the feeling. Stiles refused to let Derek control him, he would not become dependent on the Alpha in any way. But, even being aware of it, Stiles had still fallen for his charm. Even now as he lay in a ball on the floor, he could imagine Derek's hands ghosting over his skin. If he closed his eyes he could practically feel feather light touches making him shiver and squirm.

Therefore, Stiles kept his eyes wide open. 

Paranoid, he glanced at  his surroundings, half expecting Derek to appear from a wall. But, when nothing jumped out at him, he only sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. Stiles was going crazy, he was literally going insane. He picked himself up from the floor, regaining his breath with a new goal in mind. He was getting out of here. He was not going to wait around for someone to come save him. He had to do this for himself, just like with everything in his life. Stiles knew if he found the staircase Derek had brought him up last night he could make it-

Stiles froze then whipped his head around. But, no one was there.

He let his shoulders drop, and tried to pretend his heart wasn't pounding. Stiles could have sworn he heard a sound coming from the corner of the hallway, but decided he had simply let his imagination run too freely. Stiles turned back around and continued walking. People couldn't actually appear through walls, and Stiles had made sure Derek wasn't following him when he left. He had taken what felt like a million different routes to get away from The Alpha and-

There it was again. It was quiet, but it sounded like footsteps. This time Stiles didn't stop, he kept going, walking at a brisk pace to get away from the noise. He had learned early on to trust his gut, and if his gut was telling him someone was following him, he believed it.  
When he noticed the person picking up pace to match his own. Stiles didn't hesitate. He bolted knowing he had a good chance of getting away, even if he didn't know where he was going. He had to keep fighting.  
If only he hadn't reached a dead end.

Stiles spun quickly to see if he had time to backtrack, but when he turned around he saw the outline of a man in the darkened hallway blocking the exit. Pieces started to fall into place as Stiles realized this is who probably tripped him in the hall. They had wanted to slow him down. Derek...Derek had wanted to slow him down. He was here to take Stiles back. The Alpha had given the boy a moment of hope before crushing it underfoot. Somehow that was crueler then simply killing him.

"Leave me alone, Derek," Stiles spat from where he was backed up against a wall. But, the figure moving closer to him didn't answer. Dread filled Stiles as Derek got nearer. Something was wrong, whoever was at the other end of the hall wasn't Derek at all. The build was wrong, Derek was taller and bulkier than this man. Stiles had a terrible thought. What if this was Peter? Immediately the boy felt panic claw its way up his throat. Peter had finally come to finish him off. The man stalked closer, still without a sound, until he was only a few feet from Stiles. Adrenaline rushed through Stiles's system, he would not sit back and wait for the inevitable. Stiles closed the distance between the two of them, and before either man really knew what was happening, Stiles punched the intruder clean across the face. Then, using all his strength, he hooked his leg around the attackers and pushed him to the ground. 

"Fuck," Peter groaned from the floor. Except, the voice was all messed up, it didn't sound anything like either Derek or Peter,"no one bothered to mention you were violent."

Stiles let go of the man as if he had been burned, and backed away. He put as much space between them as possible.  
"Who are you?" Stiles asked sharply when his back finally came in contact with the wall. The man pushed himself up on his elbows, and rubbed his jaw where Stiles had hit him. He had dark, spikey black hair, and deep brown eyes that reminded Stiles oddly of a puppy. 

"I'm not going to hurt you Stiles, if that's what you're asking," the man said with a grin, extending out an arm to signal Stiles to help him up. Stiles looked at him like he was crazy, he probably was.

"It wasn't what I was asking, actually," Stiles said embarrassed, a touch of red coloring his cheeks. But, before the boy even had the chance to get over his bewilderment, a door to his right opened letting light into the poorly lit hallway. Two people stood in the doorway, smirks on both their faces, one man one women.

"What is going on here," The girl said with an all too pleased smirk on her face, the man didn't say anything but his eyes seemed to be asking the same question. He had dark skin, and a monstrous build. While the woman, who the man seemed to have hidden behind him, had wild blonde curls that had been tamed into a messy ponytail. They both were sweat soaked, with rumpled clothing which led Stiles to question their previous activities. Though he dare not say anything, feeling uncomfortable as it was.

"Who are you?" Stiles said again, trying to regain some control over the situation. The blonde's attention snapped to his own, and he felt his hands go clammy. 

"None of your concern," she said with a smile that made him want to jump out the window behind him. She snickered at his obvious discomfort, then focused her attention back to the man on the floor. 

"What happened to your jaw Scott? Did it finally get knocked back into place?" She asked, a playfulness to her voice which she hadn't used with Stiles. The man, Scott, rubbed the right side of his jaw which Stiles did note protruded, but not unattractively. Scott leapt to his feet with a grace Stiles would not have been able to replicate if he had just been punched clean across the face, a retort quick on his tongue. 

"Shut up Erica, he's got a good arm, wouldn't be surprised if it did finally fall into place," Scott said with a grin that seemed to permenatly reside on his face. Then he slung an arm over Stiles's shoulders and pulled him into his side. Stiles immediately flinched, he had hoped he would be forgotten. Clearly not.  
Stiles had half a mind to run while he still could, but thought better of it. He felt caged in as Scott pulled him into the room the other two had come out of. 

The inside was covered wall to wall with weapons. There was everything from guns to throwing knives. But, what was most troubling were the people inside. Two women were in the center of the room, in the middle of hand to hand combat, and an Adonis like man sat on a bench, sweaty and shirtless. One of the females had strawberry blond hair, and fierceness akin to a lioness. The other he knew very well at this point, Allison.

"Who, are you people?" Stiles insisted once more. Hoping someone would finally answer him.  
But, instead of simply getting Scott or Erica's attention, it seemed everyone in the room stopped and looked at him. Part of Stiles wanted cower in fear at the attention he was getting from so many powerful people. But, he also had questions he wanted answered. Stiles swallowed his fear, and spoke up once again.  
"Who are you," he demanded, a strength in his voice that hadn't been there before. The strawberry blonde girl who had been sparring, stepped forward giving him a cold once over. Behind her, he noticed Allison smirk and take up fighting a worn out punching bag. He couldn't help but glare daggers at her back.

"Be careful who you speak to like that," strawberry blond said, her voice ice cold. She successfully took his mind off of Allison by sending shivers up his spine,"not everyone here will be as tolerable as we are." She said it as if she were giving him good advice, but he heard the underlying threat loud and clear. These people prayed on the weak, and Stiles couldn't be seen as less than in the slightest.

"You mean like Derek," he bit out, standing his ground. He could feel stares of disbelief thrown his way and felt oddly validated. It was as Stiles expected, Derek was top dog around here. If there was one person to be afraid of, it was him. To refer to The Alpha in such loose and rude terms made the people around him take a second look. The girl in front of him for example froze for a moment, processing what he said and what it meant. Before a light sparked in her eyes as if she had figured out a secret, it didn't make Stiles feel any safer. 

"What have you done, Derek?" she murmured to herself, not sounding displeased in the slightest. Before Stiles could ask what she meant, she had stepped to his side and linked arms, pulling him out of Scott's hold. Stiles once again stiffened, but relaxed quicker this time.

"I'm Lydia. Lydia Martin, if you ever need anything I'm just a call away, though maybe a heads up would be appreciated. Allison and I are always getting up to trouble behind closed doors," a devious smile lit up Lydia's face. Her entire personality seemed to have done a one-eighty, giving Stiles whiplash. He also noticed that as she started talking, the rest of the company went back to what they were doing previously. The noise level rose comfortably, if a room full of assassins could be considered comfortable.

"But, of course you don't need to know about that, nor do you probably know who our dear Allison is-"

"I know full well who that bitch is," Stiles growled. He couldn't stop himself from glaring at the girl, who hadn't bothered to stop blugering a punching bag this entire time.  
Before he could even try to defend himself, Stiles found himself being violently flipped to the ground by the angry redhead. A forearm pressed into his throat, restricting airflow. 

"Watch what you say about that bitch because that's my girlfriend. I don't care what Derek says I will make you regret it."

Adrenaline coursed through his body, not enough to dislodge the girl, but enough to give him another kind of strength.  
"You might want to start caring what Derek says about me, have you seen what he did to Peter?"  
It was complete bullshit, Stiles had no idea if Derek had even remembered his threat to Peter. He had to put faith in Derek's anger, and that it was enough to convince the girl to back off. Lydia pressed harder on his neck before a sliver of fear flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by anger, then once again concealed by a facade.  
Like he said, whiplash.

Nonetheless, Lydia pulled away from him. Stiles heaved in air, and surprisingly the girl helped him to his feet. Once again she slipped her arm through his before talking.  
"This is certainly going to be entertaining, but I was serious. Derek would forgive me for whatever I happen to do if you say anything bad to Allison."  
"Tell her not to kidnap me and I'll think about it." Lydia smirked barely controlling her temper, but didn't say a word on the subject. Instead, she moved to introduce him to other members of the group.

The boy that was sitting on the bench wiping sweat off his back with a t-shirt was Isaac. He had startling blue eyes and curly blond hair with an air of innocence to him. When Stiles offhandedly mentioned the impression, Lydia chuckled. She went on to assure him everyone in the room could break his neck ten different ways when put on the spot, and plenty more when given time to think on it. She also informed him that Isaac was Scott's fiancé, the boy from the hall. The blond was Erica, and her overprotective boyfriend was Boyd.

"-and that, dear Stiles, concludes your introduction to the Hale Pack Mafia." Lydia finished leading him to the bench Isaac just vacated to spar with Boyd. Stiles froze, memories flooding in at the declaration. Memories of his father coming home late at night cursing that name and all associated with it. He remembered listening into his father's study as he worked and heard the muttering's of "fire," "death," "danger," falling from his lips. He remembered a feeling a shiver of excitment at what had been a horror story. Now, it was different bolt of fear that encompassed him as he forced his hands to stop shaking.

"...say that again?" He choked out, Lydia turned to him. A smile falling from her lips as she realized he hadn't been paying attention to what she had been rambling on about.

"What part?" She asked.

"What are you?" He asked, knowing she knew what he was referring to by the understanding on her face. For a moment her mask slipped, and it looked like she truly pitied him.

"Stiles, welcome to the Hale Pack Mafia," she said again, trying to soothe him. But, it was too late for that. Stiles wasn't wrong when he said everyone here seemed to be an assassian, but he wasn't right either. These people were more then anything he could have possibly dreamt up as a child. These were the enemies his father talked about, and parents told their children horror stories about. These people weren't just killers, but the killers. The gang that ran New York's underbelly, who even the toughest feared. And Stiles was far from being the toughest. 

"Lucky me," he choked out when he realized Lydia was looking for him to say something.

A loud smack echoed throughout the room as Isaac practically threw Boyd to the ground, efficiently ending the match. Isaac wiped at the blood on his face, breathing heavy. His eyes met Stiles's own for a brief moment, and Stiles froze. Then wondered how he hadn't noticed before. Those bright blue eyes Isaac had weren't calming or innocent, but cold and deadly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry we didnt post last week next week we should be posting but im making no promises. Also there is a flashback in this chapter so hopefully that isnt confusing  
> All the love

Sweat dripped down Derek's face, stinging his eyes, but he barely noticed the discomfort. The Alpha was in the training room, sparring with Boyd. The man was probably one of Derek's favorite to practice with because their skill set was the most matched. Boyd was big, and built like a rock. Derek's punches barely moved him, which forced the Alpha to get creative if he wanted to win. But, today was different. This wasn't a friendly match between family, this was a true fight. As soon as the first punch had been thrown, Derek had let all his pent up energy drive the match. He threw punch after punch, never stopping the onslaught for even a moment. To no one's surprise the match was over quickly. Boyd had not been prepared for the intensity of Derek's throws and was not able to protect himself properly before the hits started to come. Derek watched as a look of defeat entered Boyd's eyes, and doubled his efforts. Derek threw a final punch Boyd's way, knocking him off his balance. With one last kick to the gut, Boyd was sprawled on the floor. Derek had won.

"Holy fuck, Derek," Boyd said, panting on the ground,"remind me never again to spar with you when you're angry. You really don't hold your punches." Collecting his strength, Boyd rolled himself up from the floor. Annoyance pinched his features as he brushed dust off of him. 

For a moment, Derek had the strangest compulsion. Unconsciously, he clenched his hands as he watched Boyd stand back up. Derek wanted to hit him again. He wanted to force the man back down to the floor, he wanted to teach Stiles his place...

Derek felt his face go white, and relaxed his hands. He hadn't meant that, he didn't want to hurt Stiles or Boyd? Right? The Alpha rubbed a hand over his face, aiming for nonchalance, but it was too late. Boyd's annoyance quickly turned to concern.

"Derek, are you alright?" Boyd took a tentative step towards his leader, and held a hand out for Derek to grab. Part of Derek wanted to reach out, he needed to feel the solid grip of his friend. The other part wouldn't let him succumb to any weakness, even in front of people he trusted.

Derek blinked a couple times, trying to come back to reality.

"I'm fine," he finally muttered, the outstretched arm fell.

Derek turned away from his pack mate and exited the mat. He started to unwrap his fists, as he made his way to get water, but couldn't undo the knot due to his shaking hands. Derek could feel his frustration escalating, but before he turned and punched the wall, Erica was there. He had forgotten she was in the room as the fight had started, and couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed by her presence. Erica grabbed his hands in her own, Derek noticed how his fingers dwarfed hers in comparison. Then, expertly, she started undoing the knots, cloth fell in perfect strands to the floor.

"What's wrong?" Erica said, a persistent look in her eye. That was one of the things Derek loved about her. When it came down to her family, Erica was always straight forward and serious. Not that Derek was going to make this easy on her. The mafia boss simply rolled his eyes, and walked away from her. He stopped at the bench to chug a pitcher of water, hoping that was enough to get them to stop asking about him. But, when he turned around both his packmates where looking at him expectantly.

"Would the two of you leave me alone," Derek growled.

He immediately got an answer.

"No," the pair said in unison.

Derek gave them his most terrifying scowl, but they knew there was no real threat behind it. Derek sighed giving in. He wondered when they had learned not to fear him, and whether that was a good thing or not.

"Stiles is driving me crazy," Derek muttered quietly, hoping they wouldn't hear. It had been about a week since Stiles and Derek had woken up in each other's arms. To the Alpha's surprise, Stiles seemed to simulate himself into pack life smoothly. The boy was often seen on the arm of Lydia or Scott, and he seemed to be friendly enough with the rest of the pack as well. Except for one person...Derek. 

The man seemed to tune back into the conversation just in time to witness Boyd and Erica sharing a look. A look that clearly said Derek was an idiot. Derek scowled, trying to ignore the horrid blush that painted his cheeks.

"Forget it," he snapped at the pair.

Derek didn't want their sympathy. 

The man turned to walk away, but faster then he would have expected, Erica's slim hand wrapped around his arm. Derek looked behind him ready to yell at her, when she jerked him back, catching him off balance. With a well placed twist of Derek's arm, the Alpha found himself flat on the floor. Derek looked up at Erica, something like admiration in his eyes. He would have to remember to spar with her in the near future. 

A smug smile lit up Erica's face.

"You're not getting away that easy, now tell us what happened."

~~~~~~~~~~

Derek was sitting in his office, a book in hand. He had finished the days intended work hours ago, and had decided to stay up to read. It was usually a habit he did in bed, except... Derek shook his head, pulling his eyes back to the words on the page, trying desperately to pretend he was actually focused on the book and not who was currently residing in his room.

The sky had been dark all day, but now that it was late at night, inky back clouds seemed to look down on Derek from the window behind his chair. Rain was falling heavily, with the occasional boom of thunder or flash of lightning. A fire burned in the fireplace. It's heat filling the otherwise somber room, chasing away the chill. Derek felt his eyelids growing heavy as the heat lulled him. 

The Alpha was calm, no one had bothered him all evening.  
But, as per usual, his luck would never hold.

Startled from his almost sleep, Derek jumped from the chair by an intense knocking on the door. 

The man stood up instantly, gun in hand. Then lowered it, relaxing his posture slightly. Whoever was knocking, wasn't pack. They normally barged in no matter how many times he told them not to. But, Derek didn't feel threatened by the guest. Whoever it was wasn't an enemy, they wouldn't have knocked either. Anyone trying to hurt him would be smart enough to try and take Derek by surprise, at least if they knew what was good for them. Which left only one person who could have gotten to Derek's office doors without any trouble from the pack.

Stiles.

Derek sighed, he knew he wasn't lucky enough to be able to avoid the boy forever.

The first morning Derek shared with him had been a complete disaster. Now, Stiles hated him. If Derek was a better person he would have been honest with himself when he had seen Stiles in bed that night. If Derek was a better person he would have let someone else dress Stiles's wounds. If Derek was a better person he would give Stiles the one thing he wanted, to go home.

But, Derek wasn't a better person. He had felt a warm body in bed and snuggled closer to it. He had seen the fear in Stiles's eyes, but insisted Derek be the one to check him over. He was the one who couldn't let Stiles go no matter how he wanted to. Derek was a fucking mess over the kid, so he did the one thing that would make it easier for both of them. Derek stayed away from Stiles.

For an entire twenty-four hours, Derek had refrained from having any contact with the boy. Instead, he had holed himself in his office all day, only coming out to use the bathroom and get food. He told himself that it was better this way. That whatever he felt for the boy would disappear the longer he stayed away, and Stiles would feel more comfortable. It was the perfect plan. Except Derek had started to go crazy less then half way through the day. The Alpha had been constantly worried about Stiles when he wasn't around to protect the boy. Random thoughts would fly through his head that made Derek grip his desk in his uneasiness. What if Peter went back to kill Stiles like he originally planned? The thought made Derek livid, he hadn't been able to shake the picture of Stiles's broken body out of his mind. He knew he needed to find a way to check on Stiles so he didn't go crazy.

That night, when Lydia came in Derek's office to ask where Stiles's room should be, Derek saw his chance. He looked her in the eye and told her Stiles would be staying in his room. And what a mistake that had been. 

But, the grossly smug smile on her face was worth it when he was greeted with the sight of a passed out Stiles, safe and sound wrapped up in blankets.

Derek always worked late, staying in his study or going to meet people until way past the time any decent person was awake. By the time he retired to bed, Stiles would be asleep. In the morning, Derek woke up hours earlier than Stiles did. Being a morning person gave him the chance to sneak out of the room without Stiles noticing.

Stiles had no idea he snuggled into Derek's warmth every night, or that Derek would hold him tight until the early light.

The only obstacle Derek faced was that whatever he felt for Stiles seemed to double in the past week. Derek had become accustomed to Stiles's lithe body pressed against his own in bed. If Stiles ever found out about what he did at night, Derek didn't know what he would do. At the time, it hadn't been a problem the man was interested in thinking about.

With a defeated sigh, The Alpha opened the door. Of course, Stiles stood there, just as Derek had known. The boy had his head held high and was glaring at Derek with those beautiful brown eyes The Alpha forgot he loved so much. Derek stayed stoic, hoping he could intimidate Stiles away.

"What do you want, Stiles," Derek said breaking the silence. 

But, the boy didn't answer him, instead he barged past the man into the office and plopped himself in the exact chair Derek had just vacated. Derek couldn't keep the surprised look off his face, and closed the door silently before facing the boy. What did he have to fear, he was the leader of the most feared mafia in the state, he could do this. 

"I want to know why you've been avoiding me, Derek," Stiles spit out the name like a curse word. 

Derek could not do this. 

Already, the fire in Stiles's voice awoke something in the man that felt like it hadn't been there in years. Stiles was about to poke and prod at all of Derek's buttons, and The Alpha was anticipating it with an odd sense of glee. 

"I don't know what you mean," Derek replied, already knowing Stiles would see through the lie.

"That's bullshit Derek and we both know it," Stiles was mad, furious even, and was prepared to say so with a smile on his face.  
"I've been thinking about the night when you saved me from Peter. You saved me for a reason, and I'm pretty sure that reason wasn't so you could ignore me."

The room was quiet for a moment before Derek spoke up.

"Why do you think I saved you, Stiles?" He asked, though his mask was firmly in place, Derek was genuinely curious. He didn't think he knew the answer himself.

The question seemed to take Stiles by surprise, if the way his mouth slamming shut was anything to go by. The boy looked quizzically at him, before he seemed to realize Derek was pulling his leg.

"Maybe if you could stand to talk to me I might know the answer. What is your problem Derek? Did mommy and daddy not love you enough? Is that why there always seems to be a stick up your ass? Well I have news for you, you're not special. Having a fucked up past doesn't give you the excuse to be a dick," the two both stood, frozen, trying to process Stiles's words. If Derek stopped to think for a moment, he would have realized Stiles was projecting his own emotions onto Derek. He would have known half of the boys words had nothing to do with him. But, Derek wasn't thinking, and Stiles's words had hit far too close to home.

"Let me tell you, Stiles," the words on his lips so powerful he couldn't have been able to stop them if he tried,"if I could relive that moment in the basement, I would've let you die."

 

Immediately, the twisted joy Derek got from fighting with Stiles turned to guilt. He had gone too far. In fact, once the words were out of his mouth he wished more than anything he could take them back. The look of hurt that passed Stiles's face, even so briefly, had been enough to turn Derek into a whimpering puppy. How could Derek have said that to him? If The Alpha could go back to the moment in the basement, he would have put a bullet in Peter's brain.

But, the man didn't know how to say sorry, and even if he did would he have? Derek didn't think Stiles would have. 

Stiles.

The boy was still standing in silence, looking at Derek as if he could desintigrate the man if he focused hard enough. If looks could kill and all that. Derek expected Stiles to hightail it out of there, and unknowingly leave Derek to stew in his own misery. But, like with most things, Stiles surprised him. 

"Look," the boy's tone was icy and distant.  
"I don't care if you like me, because I sure as hell hate you. But, every night for the past week you have been coming to our room and holding me until I fall asleep. I really, truly hate to admit this, but I can no longer fall asleep on my own. I need you there. So, get your ass to bed because I'm fucking tired."

Derek stood there like an idiot as Stiles marched out of the room, expecting The Alpha to follow.

Which, of course, he did.

~~~~~~~~~~

Boyd and Erica sat in shock.

"Lydia's going to love this," Erica finally said.

Derek stormed out of the training room, the sound of laughter following him as he went.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: LOTS OF BLOOD AND STILES HAS A PANIC ATTACK BE WARNED though that is more at the end if the chapter 
> 
> This is where things start getting into the actual plot of the story  
> All the love

Ten days had passed since Stiles had last been home. Ten days since he woke up in a cell with no hope of seeing the light again. Ten days since Derek Hale had crashed into his life and flipped it upside down.  
Even as Stiles became more comfortable with his new surroundings, Derek ignored him. The Alpha confused the boy to no end. The two would barely make eye contact during the day, but fall into each other's arms at night...

Stiles didn’t understand it, he didn’t know if he wanted to. But, the infuriating silence was driving him mad.

Stiles should be elated, he saw and heard from Derek as little as possible. Instead it was picking at his sanity. Did The Alpha think so highly of himself he couldn't make time to say hello to the person he shared a bed with?  
He wished he could deny it, but there was no point. Stiles was hurt. 

 

It had taken only one evening for all his pent up aggression to hit full force.

Stiles had been tossing and turning in bed, waiting impatiently for Derek to grace him with his presence. When hours had gone by with the man still absent, Stiles had taken matters into his own hands. Derek was not allowed to take away the one thing Stiles needed from him. It hadn't only been the last straw, Derek had set fire to the entire fucking haystack. Stiles had stormed up to The Alpha’s office prepared to give him hell.  
Part of Stiles knew he was playing with fire. He was bating a man who could easily murder him for stepping out of line. But, if Stiles was being honest, he had stopped fearing for his life days ago. Derek had put far too much effort into saving Stiles to get rid of him now.

 

At least, that’s what the boy had thought. 

“...if I could relive that moment in the basement, I would have let you die.”

Derek's words that night still whispered in the back of Stiles’s head. The comment had rung with a truth to it that felt like a slap to the face. It left Stiles wondering how safe he truly was here. Maybe Derek wouldn’t give the killing blow, but would he make an effort to prevent it from someone else’s hand? 

Stiles tried not to dwell too hard on not knowing the answer.

After the confrontation, what Stiles had hoped to fix had only been made worse. Derek hadn't been to bed for the past three days, and Stiles had suffered because of it. The boy always seemed to be in a foul mood as of late, and there were dark bags under his eyes due to lack of sleep.

The few times Derek and Stiles had made contact on a normal day, had diminished to practically nothing. If Stiles saw Derek walking his way, he turned and went down a different hall. If Stiles was in a room, Derek would go to great lengths to get out as soon as possible. The entire situation was ridiculous and childish, but Stiles refused to be the first one to break.  
Instead, the boy tried to focused his attention elsewhere. In an attempt to get his mind off of Derek, Stiles began hanging around the pack. Not that it was a hardship. Unlike their leader, the pack (minus Peter) had broken through Stiles's defenses with ease. He had surprisingly come to enjoy their company, and even made an effort to seek them out throughout the day. Today was no different. 

Stiles was currently in the lounge with Scott. Whenever the pack wasn’t busy with work or training, they could be found in this communal area. Stiles had walked into the room to find his friend making a mess of himself. Half eaten food littered the floor, and an empty whiskey bottle looked like it was about to fall from Scott’s hand. Stiles quickly stepped in before the brunette could do further damage. 

“Are you drunk?” Stiles asked warily, scooping up fallen crumbs in his hands. He knew not all people were violent when they hit the bottle too hard, but it wasn’t easy to forget something that had been ingrained so deeply in him. Meanwhile Scott sat on the couch, a dopey smile on his face.

“Maybe,” Scott seemed to say after thinking about it for far too long. Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle, breathing a sigh of relief. This wasn’t his father. Without meaning to, Scott had eased the knot in Stiles’s chest simply by being himself.

“Why are you getting drunk at three o’clock in the afternoon?” Stiles asked before plopping down next to Scott on the couch. Scott immediately leaned his entire body against Stiles’s own. The boy couldn’t help the content shiver that ran through him at the touch. He hadn’t felt contact like this since Der-

Stiles cringed. Somehow, his thoughts always made it back to Derek. He hated it.

“I’m not sure... I remember,” Scott said, the cutest furrow between his brows before his face lit up,”Oh, I know why…”

Stiles couldn’t contain the smile that grew on his own face at the self satisfied tone in Scott’s voice. He waited patiently for Scott to elaborate, and tried not to laugh too hard when the boy started drooling on his shoulder. Stiles nudged him back awake. The brunette sat up, rigid as a board.  
“What?” He asked, confused.

“You were going to tell me why you decided drinking during mid afternoon was a good idea,” Stiles said, melting at the puppy dog look Scott was shooting his way.

“Oh, yeah. It’s because Derek’s being a dick,” Scott said, matter of factly. 

Stiles snorted, he knew the feeling. 

“He’s mad because you and him had a fight and now he’s taking it out on us. Right now, he's pushing Isaac too hard, and that damned idiot doesn’t know his own limitations. Isaac is almost as stubborn as you, Stiles. He doesn’t know when to stop. He’s going to push himself until he drops dead…”  
Scott took a deep breath, seeming to sober up. Now that he had started, it didn’t seem like he couldn’t stop talking.

"I don’t want him to drop dead. I love him. We’ve been fighting, Stiles. It’s- it’s been bad."  
Stiles was frozen where he sat, not knowing what to say. Guilt sat heavy in the pit of his stomach. Scott had gotten drunk because Isaac was being treated unfairly by Derek. Derek was treating Isaac unfairly, ultimately, because of Stiles.

 

“Of course, I don’t blame you-” Scott started to say when the door to the lounge opened. Stiles didn’t miss the way Scott’s entire face lit up.

"Isaac!" The brunette shouted, and rushed from Stiles's side to embrace his lover.  
Isaac stumbled back from the sudden impact, but didn’t protest. 

Scott looked at his lover like it was the first time, every time. Even when it was evident Isaac was a wreck. The boy was too pale, and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he hadn’t slept in days.  
As soon as Scott’s arms wrapped around Isaac, he practically collapsed into the safety of the other’s arms. Stiles had to look away at the intimacy, feeling like he was imposing on a private moment. He wished he could block out the whispered words of concern, if only so his own heart wouldn’t break.

“Isaac, what’s happened to you?” Scott asked, pulling out of the hug to run his hands over Isaac to check for injuries. A hard look was set in Scott’s eyes as he stroked Isaac’s cheek. Maybe he wasn’t as inebriated as he had seemed.

“Why do you smell like whiskey?” Isaac mumbled into Scott’s shoulder, but Scott paid him no mind.

“He’s been running you too hard. I’m going to talk to him. I don’t care what you say, he can’t do this to you. I’m not letting you suffer because he’s throwing a hissy fit.”  
Isaac winced before pulling away from Scott’s touch. The blond ran a hand down his own face wearily, as if they had had this conversation many times before. 

“We’ve talked about this, Scott. I’m just a little tired is all. Please, leave it…”

Isaac’s tired eyes finally roamed to Stiles. It seemed to dawn on him that someone else was in the room.

“Stiles, you’re here..” Isaac said before pushing a disgruntled Scott behind him. The protective move was made unconsciously, and Stiles felt a pang in his chest when he realized why.  
Most people would report the couple to the cops for showing such affection. Almost everybody would call what they shared unnatural and disgusting. Stiles would know. It had been a relief to find out the pack was accepting of all types of people. But, Stiles was still an outsider to them. Isaac had a right to be wary. 

“Isaac,” Stiles said in a way of greeting,”how have you been?”  
Stiles could feel tension hanging in the air. He hadn’t felt this uncomfortable around a pack member since he had first met them all. Once again, Stiles was left feeling like a fish out of water.

Isaac smiled painfully, clearly, the awkwardness of the situation wasn’t lost on him, “I’ve been better.”

Stiles cringed, but didn’t have time to escape before Scott was butting in.

“That’s an understatement,” he practically growled, a heat to his words. Isaac’s reaction was immediate. The blond rolled his shoulders down and back, and clenched his hands into fists.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Isaac spat, turning his back to Stiles who was wishing more and more he could sink into the couch cushions, “You work yourself to the bone without any help from Derek. Sometimes you’re gone for days without telling me, and I have to sit at home and worry if I’m ever going to see you again.”

Hurt flashed across Scott’s face, but it was gone as soon as it had come. 

“You really want to do this here, Isaac. Fine. Next time, when you break down from exhaustion and fear and pain… don’t expect me to fix you.”

The silence that echoed through the room had never been so loud. Isaac stepped away from Scott, as if he had been slapped. The anger drained from his stance immediately, leaving an empty shell of a man in its place. That seemed to bring Scott back to himself. The brunette took one look at Isaac, and fled from the room. 

Less than a second passed before Isaac dropped to the floor, head in his hands.

Stiles inhaled sharply and rushed to the boy’s side. He fell to his knees next to Isaac, and wrapped his arms around him. Stiles firmly ignored how Isaac’s body was shaking with sobs.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright, everything’s ok,” he didn’t know quite what to say to a crying gang member, but hoped he was doing it right.  
“Scott blew this way out of proportion. He was worried for you, but he went about it the wrong way.”  
Isaac sniffled pathetically, before leaning himself entirely into Stiles’s embrace. Only a few minutes ago he was doing the same for Scott. Stiles tightened his hold, Isaac needed comfort.

“Come on,” he whispered into the blond’s ear reassuringly, “let’s get you to bed.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

It took Stiles far longer then he would have liked to admit, but finally he got all of Isaac’s useless muscled body to bed. Isaac had practically fallen asleep on Stiles’s shoulder on the way up, which didn’t help. Stiles would have nudged him awake if it weren’t for the silent tears still streaming down his face. As it was, he let Isaac be, which he was starting to regret. Stiles would feel the strain in his back for days to come.

That was ok, he decided as he placed the other boy in bed. As long as Isaac was ok, he would be ok, too. Stiles pulled the covers up around Isaac’s body and was about to leave when the blond started to mumble.  
Stiles paused where he stood and shuffled closer so he could hear better.

“What?” Stiles asked, not unkindly. Isaac grabbed his hand as soon as it was in reach, holding on as if his life depended on it.

“Don’t leave,” Isaac mumbled, “Don’t leave me, Scott.”  
Stiles felt his heart break, and swore the next time he saw the idiot he would hit him over the head...with a baseball bat.

“I’m not Scott, Isaac. It’s Stiles, remember?”  
But, the words were barely out of his mouth, before Isaac was whimpering. There was a furrow between his eyebrows, and he was starting to wake more which Stiles didn’t want to deal with.  
“Please..” Isaac insisted, and how could Stiles say no.

“Ok, ok Isaac, I’ll stay. Calm down for me, ok? Go back to sleep.”  
Isaac was clearly less conscious then more, and was seeking comfort from wherever he could get it. But, Stiles was comforted by the sight of his friend relaxing once again, finally dropping the hand he was holding in a death’s grip as sleep took over.

“Derek’s lucky to have you.” 

Stiles went rigid where he stood.  
A bitter taste filled his mouth. The boy looked at the occupied bed warily, but found Isaac fast asleep. Stiles ran his hands over his face, maybe he was more tired than he originally thought. Isaac was out like a light, there was no way he had said what Stiles thought he said. It must have been Stiles’s own imagination running away from him.

The boy resigned himself to his fate of sleeping in the uncomfortable rocking chair in the corner of the room, and tried to convince himself he had hallucinated the exchange. He pulled an extra blanket off Isaac’s bed and wrapped it around himself, trying to get comfortable. He didn’t think he’d be able to relax after what had just happened, but it wasn’t long before Stiles was drifting off into the comfort of sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Scott...get out of the way..”

Stiles twisted and turned in his sleep as a nightmare plagued his serenity.

“Let go of him…”

Stiles’s brow furrowed at the sound of the familiar voice so obviously in distress. Something wasn’t right.

...bang.

Stiles’s eyes shot open, his confusion quickly turning to fear. It took only a moment for Stiles’s eyes to adjust before he could focus on what was in front of him.  
The bed that Stiles had left Isaac in the previous night was torn apart. The furniture in the room was in pieces, as if someone had been thrown into them. But, what worried Stiles most of all was the blood splatter on the floor, creating a pathway through the room. Carefully, Stiles stood from where he sat. He couldn’t deny that his hands were shaking, but he forced himself to follow the path of destruction. Something would be waiting at the end, and Stiles had to see it. He owed them that much.  
Stiles turned the corner that led to the bathroom, and stopped.

What Stiles found, rooted him to the ground in fear.  
A woman with dirty blond hair, and dark brown eyes smirked at Stiles, in her arms lay Isaac. His body was limp, and Stiles barely had time to scream before the women jumped out the bathroom window. Taking Isaac with her. 

Stiles felt himself unfreeze from where he stood, a moment too late. Time seemed to go in slow motion as he raced to the open window, dreading what he would see when he looked out. But, to the boy's surprise, all he saw were the blotched out faces of people going about their normal day.

 

To some that might have been a relief, but not to Stiles. Isaac was gone, without a trace. Stiles distantly realized he was shaking as he backed away from the window.  
Someone had taken Isaac. 

Someone had taken Isaac. 

Then, almost a worse thought passed through his head. How was he going to tell Scott?

“Scott,” Stiles whispered to himself. In his dream, or what turned out to be a living hell, Stiles could have sworn he heard Scott’s voice…

And a gunshot.

Stiles was going to be sick.  
The boy looked up from where he had been staring at the floor, trying to process what he had just witnessed. What met Stiles when he glanced up would be burned into his mind forever.

If Stiles had thought the outside of the bathroom had been bloody, it was nothing compared to the inside. Dark fluid dripped from the walls like paint. Red coated everything, from the walls to the sink. From the floor to...to Scott.

Stiles couldn't breathe.

The boy turned to the toilet and threw up what little he had in his stomach, only to notice the toilet water was a deep red. Stiles backed away in horror, and wiped his hand across his mouth. When he pulled it away blood was smeared across his skin. Stiles stumbled back into the wall, hearing the squelch as his body came in contact with the sticky substance. Stiles wanted to scream, but couldn’t make a noise. He turned to run. Run away from the red, but tripped backwards over an object on the ground.  
Stiles fell to the wet floor, coming face to face with Scott’s horrifyingly pale face. 

Tears starting falling from Stiles’s eyes. Without checking, he already knew, they would be red, too.

"Scott, wake up. Please wake up, Isaac needs you. Please, Scott, stay awake don't leave please, don't leave."  
Stiles gathered Scott in his arms and cried. His sobs were so loud he would have missed Scott’s voice if it wasn’t for how close he was holding the other boy.

"Isaac," Scott managed to rasp out,"save...Isaac." 

 

"HELP!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be proud we r actually on time for once
> 
> Warnings: this is a direct continuation of last chapter so it contains blood and somewhat violent stuff still
> 
> Hope u enjoy  
> all the love

Stiles was frozen, holding Scott’s still body.  
The boy, sat, counting his friends frantic heartbeats. Waiting, just waiting for when they would stop.  
He felt a morbid sense of fascination as he watched Scott’s chest heave. He didn’t want to ever see it stop, but he didn’t know how to help either. A minute ago he had been panic-stricken and out of control, but now his mind was blank. As if he wasn’t able to process what he was seeing. 

This wasn’t Stiles’s world. He had never been trained to deal with death. Never once did he wake up fearing the pain of a bullet piercing his body. He had been thrust into a world he was terribly unfamiliar with, and he was about to pay the price.  
Stiles knew more than ever that he had to do something when Scott’s body started to convulse.

That one thought was enough to pull Stiles out of his trance. He blinked his eyes hard and color flooded his senses, no longer was he staring at the muted red he had seen before. Instead of the monotone fuzz he had been listening to, the sound of Scott’s wheezing breath provided an anchor to grasp onto. Stiles inhaled deeply, feeling for the first time since he had walked into the room that he could breathe without a weight on his chest.

Scott was in trouble, and Stiles needed to get over himself and help him. The boy’s eyes narrowed in determination. Memories started flashing in his head of what to do in situations like this.

When his father was still the sheriff, he used to quiz Stiles on emergency protocols. If someone had hypothermia, you wrapped them in blankets. If someone was severely burned, you had to clean out the wound with antiseptic. If you were shot you… if you were shot..  
He wanted to scream. He couldn’t remember.

Fuck. Why couldn’t he remember?

Stiles knew. He knew that he knew what to do! But, the information wasn’t coming to him.  
He could remember his father explaining it to him once after seeing a particularly nasty shootout. He had lain on the floor and pretended to be unconscious. The tomato sauce his mother made the night before was used as blood. 

Stiles recalled, as a boy, giggling through the entire demonstration. His parents even smiling along with him.  
But, never...never once did he think there would be a time where that lesson would become a reality. This wasn't Stiles and his father playing pretend. More importantly, the liquid pouring out of Scott definitely wasn't tomato sauce. 

Stiles could feel the panic welling inside him once again. 

‘You’re weak Stiles,’ a voice that sounded suspiciously like his father sounded in his mind. 

‘You’re the reason your mother’s dead. You’re the reason I lost my job. Now you’re going to be the reason your friend dies?’ Stiles outwardly flinched, feeling the sting of his father’s words.

‘I should have left you out on the street a long time ago.’

Stiles bit his lip to keep from speaking out against the voice. It was right after all. This was Stiles’s fault, it was always Stiles’s fault.

But, then another, quieter voice sounded in the boy’s head. Gaining volume the more Stiles paid attention to it.

‘Calm down Stiles. Breathe. I trust you to handle this,’ The voice was deeper than his father’s, and was too gruff to be anyone but Derek. 

The boy inhaled slowly. 

‘You’re smart Stiles. So tell me, tell me what’s the first thing you’re supposed to do when someone’s been shot.’  
Almost immediately, the answer came to him.

“Pressure," Stiles whispered to himself, "apply pressure."  
He blinked open his eyes, not realizing they had closed. The sight in front of him becoming more tolerable the more he focused. 

Stiles knew what to do.  
He moved Scott’s body into a more comfortable position, and placed his hands on the brunette’s body.  
Warm, sticky blood oozed from the wound as Stiles pressed down. The boy swallowed down the bile, refusing to be sick again.  
He had to keep his cool at least long enough for someone to get here.

"Help," Stiles croaked. That wasn't nearly loud enough, he cleared his throat, and tried screaming.

"Help…” louder.

“Help..” even more. 

“Help me!"

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Help me!"

Derek’s head snapped up. It was late at night and he was in his office when he first heard the plea for aid. The sound of the voice being dreadingly familiar.  
A chilling sensation crawled up The Alpha’s spine, making him shiver. 

Stiles was in danger, and that spelled trouble for his pack.  
So far into Derek’s career one would think cries of help, and haunted voices wouldn't bother him.  
And normally they didn't.  
But, the mental image of Stiles laying in his own pool of blood was a hard one to get rid of. Though he’d like to.

"Please, someone. Help me, god dammit!"  
There it was again, the echo of Stiles’s voice ringing throughout the building.  
It was clear the boy was losing his patience. Losing his mind sounded more accurate. Shit.

Derek was out of his chair in seconds, grabbing his gun, and running for the hallway. Stiles’s howls seemed to be coming from Scott and Isaac’s floor. It was enough of a lead to get The Alpha chasing his was up stairs and through hallways to get to the couples room. Stiles’s voice leading the way.

When Derek got to the room, he was concerned to see the door wide open. With his senses on high alert, The Alpha carefully made his way past the doorway to scan the inside. Not finding Stiles anywhere. 

The light from the bathroom illuminated the outside bed chamber, and frantic breathing came with it. It was cause enough for him to move quickly, ignoring the broken furniture and blood spatter, until he was outside the bathroom door.  
Derek put his back against the wall, and cocked his gun. He took a calming breath to ready himself for whatever he would walk into. Then, Derek turned sharply into the bathroom pointing his weapon, ready to shoot. Only to find Stiles pressing down on Scott's side frantically. Derek halted for only a moment. The sight of the boy’s panic feeling wrong in the otherwise spotless room.

Stiles was covered head to toe in Scott's blood, his face looked ashen with fear. That’s all it took for The Alpha to spring into action once more.  
Derek thrust his gun onto the counter before dropping to his knees besides Stiles.  
He wanted to replace the boy’s shaking hands with his steady ones, but Stiles wouldn’t let him.

"I'm sorry...my fault.... pressure...help," Stiles kept murmuring those words over and over, refusing to be moved from his spot. He didn't seem to realize help was there, and that Scott would be taken care of.

From behind Derek, a new voice sounded.

"Derek, what's going on?”  
Lydia asked, trying to maintain composure though it looked like she had only just woken up. To anyone who didn’t know her she would have succeeded, but it was clear to Derek she was shaken. 

He turned quickly to Lydia, an order already on his lips.

"Find Deaton, and the rest of the pack. Get them all here as fast as you can."  
With a single nod she was gone.

 

Once Derek knew help would be on the way, he turned back to Stiles. Again, he tried to remove the boy’s hands from Scott’s paling body.

But, Stiles fought against The Alpha vehemently. Derek grumbled.  
Over and over again he kept at it, trying to retract Stiles from the situation. But, each time he shifted the boy, Stiles moved himself back. Going to the point of vocalizing his protests.

"No!" he would insist every time Derek attempted to transfer him away from the body.  
Finally The Alpha had had enough.

"STILES," Derek yelled at him, needing to break the boy out of whatever trance he was in.  
The reaction was immediate. As soon as Stiles’s name was out of Derek’s mouth, he quieted down. Then, to The Alpha’s ever growing surprise, Stiles looked to Derek for orders.  
The man felt the wrongness of the situation settle in his bones. Never before had Stiles listened to him so easily. Derek felt his annoyance start to dwindle. Stiles was scared. He had never been in a situation like this before, and clearly was panicking as he had every right to do. In that moment, Derek felt a consuming protectiveness for the boy. Silently promising to help him when this was all over. The tension in Stiles’s body eased, as if he knew it too.

"Derek get him out of the way," the spell was broken, and in came Deaton along with the rest of pack. All ready to help Scott.  
Derek made a split second decision. He didn't have time to coax Stiles out of the bathroom, so he picked the smaller boy up and quickly moved him away from Scott’s body. Deaton swarmed in, yelling orders to the rest of the pack within the second.

Derek quickly moved Stiles, knowing he needed to get him away from the chaos. To his surprise, Stiles didn't fight against him as he expected. Instead, the boy buried himself further into The Alpha’s chest, like he was trying to disappear. Derek could feel him shake with the force of his pent up emotion.  
"It's ok Stiles," Derek whispered so only Stiles could here, "you’re safe now, Scott's going to be ok, I'm not going to let anything hurt you."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stiles’s face was completely blank as Derek carried him. The image of Scott and Isaac’s room playing like a record on repeat in Stiles’s head.  
Oh no, Isaac. Stiles had forgotten all about him after finding Scott.

"D-Derek..she took him, she took Isaac," Stiles stammered, gripping Derek's shirt in his hands. Leaving bloody handprints all over the fabric, "she hurt Scott, too. You have find him, you have to save Isa-" 

"Stiles!" He cut in before the boy could work himself up again.  
"It's going to be okay, we'll find Isaac, just calm down," Derek’s hold on Stiles tightened, not caring about the inevitable mess. 

They got to thei- his room in no time, and brought Stiles inside. Derek headed straight to the bathroom, setting the boy down on the side of the porcelain bathtub.  
The man planned to move away to get a towel and a change of clothes, but Stiles was reluctant to let Derek go. The boy held on stubbornly to The Alpha, refusing to be left alone.  
Derek sighed, put his calloused hands on top of Stiles’s own, and spoke gently.

"Stiles, it's okay. Let go, I'm trying to help you."  
The boy looked up at Derek with wide, trusting eyes, finally nodding his allowance before releasing his vice grip.  
Derek attempted a disarming smile, probably failing if Stiles’s grimace was anything to go by. But, that could have been the fault of the blood on his hands, and had nothing to do with Derek at all. 

The Alpha sighed trying hard not to bang his head against the wall at his own stupidity. Then faced away from the boy, and turned on the faucet to the bathtub. The sound of running water created a comfortable silence for the two to fall into.  
Derek waited a moment for the water to warm up before turning back to Stiles. Slowly, trying to come off as non threatening as possible, Derek knelt down in front of the boy. It was obvious to anyone who looked at Stiles, that he was not in any state to properly take care of himself at the moment. 

“You alright, Stiles?” Derek asked the boy softly. He was shivering where he sat and seemed to be lost in his own mind. But, Stiles answered him with an affirmative nod. Derek let out a relieved breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Under all the trauma, Stiles was still there.

“Is it ok if I help you get into the bathtub?” Derek questioned, willing Stiles to understand the part of the sentence he wasn’t saying. The boy made eye contact with The Alpha for the first time since he had been found. A mocking smile tugged at Stiles’s lips. He understood alright.

“Oh, shut up,” Derek said, secretly pleased when Stiles’s smile widened. After that the room was relatively quiet as Derek stripped Stiles of his clothes and helped him climb into the warm water.

“You're going to see a lot of blood,” Derek murmured soothingly as the water already started turning a murky brown.

“Just remember I'm here, you're going to be okay." 

Stiles nodded, not having the energy to try to say anything even if he wanted to. As soon as the warm water touched Stiles it ignited sparks throughout his body, and his muscles relaxed. 

Derek picked up a bar of soap and lathered a washcloth before scrubbing down Stiles’s body. The boy cringed slightly as he watched his skin rub free of Scott’s blood. The sight made him sick to his stomach, but Stiles did his best to ignore the feeling.

When Derek started to wash Stiles’s hair, he felt his body relax even more. The Alpha’s rough fingers massaging into his scalp felt amazing. Stiles leaned into the touch. He didn't know what it was but right now, being here with Derek, made Stiles feel safe from the world.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait hope it was worth it lots of fluffy angst in this chapter enjoy  
> All the love

"I'm going to pick you up.”

Derek paused for a moment, and backtracked. He hadn’t wanted to sound so harsh.

“Is...that ok?” The Alpha added. The confidence he normally wielded like a sharpened blade lost to him in that moment.

Derek washed away the mess that had coated Stiles until he was completely free from the substance. The consequence being the water was now a rusty brown color. Derek didn't want Stiles to feel nervous again, and knew he needed to get the boy out of the tub with care.

 

Stiles’s eyes were closed, his eyelashes fluttering lightly against his flushed cheeks. The boy had completely sunk into the luxury of Derek’s ministrations. Stiles was so relaxed he barely realized when his head had fallen against Derek’s shoulder. A wet spot was gathering on The Alpha’s shirt, but he found he didn’t care in the slightest. 

Compared to the boy Derek had found next to Scott’s bloodied body, Stiles was a completely different person. Protectiveness swept over The Alpha. He wanted to keep Stiles as he was in that instant. Calm and happy with Derek watching over him. 

Stiles was barely coherent, but he nodded sluggishly against Derek’s chest as an answer to The Alpha’s original question.  
Derek found himself smiling unabashedly. He was completely unable to resist Stiles’s charm and leaned down to rest his forehead against the top of the boy’s head.  
Derek had the urge to press a kiss to the dark strands of hair that had curled from the water. All he would have to do was bend down a little farther and his lips would caress the boy’s freshly washed hair.  
The Alpha inhaled sharply and quickly discarded the thought. For the moment, Derek had Stiles’s trust. He didn't want to jeopardize that in any way. 

The Alpha carefully pushed Stiles off of him, and rolled back his sleeves. Derek then stuck his hands into the murky water and wrapped his arms securely around the boy’s seemingly fragile body.

"Wrap your arms around my neck, Stiles."  
Derek whispered, not wanting to disrupt the boy. Stiles did as asked.

The Alpha felt a shiver run up his spine. He had a feeling Stiles would do anything that was asked of him right now.  
One would think Derek would be happy about that. Finally, Stiles was listening to orders. 

But, if he was being honest, the boy’s compliancy sat uneasily with him. 

This wasn't Derek’s Stiles. The one with the witty retorts, the one who wasn't afraid to call him out on his shit.  
This was a Stiles Derek had never met before, and he had to navigate his way carefully.

The Alpha easily lifted Stiles out of the water, and placed him on the side of the tub where Derek previously had been sitting to bathe him. Stiles immediately started to shiver in Derek’s arms, making him look smaller then he actually was. It left The Alpha with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Derek reached to the floor to grab a towel, and quickly wrapped it around the shaking boy.

Stiles whimpered as Derek worked on drying him off. The Alpha couldn’t resist pulling the boy farther onto his lap in an effort to comfort him.

“Talk to me, Stiles,” Derek murmured, finding the words coming naturally to him, “What’s running through that head of yours?”

Stiles’s eyes were shut tight, and he was leaning into Derek’s hands ghosting over him with the now damp cloth. But, he was still mostly relaxed which was all that mattered. 

For the next while, Stiles was silent though Derek was positive he had heard the question. Yet, The Alpha wasn’t too worried. He had seen the aftermath of tragedy many times. He recognized the different ways people dealt with trauma. Stiles would talk. Derek just had to give him time.

It was only after Stiles was fully dressed and being tucked into bed that the boy spoke up. 

"I never want to feel that helpless, that weak, ever again," Stiles whispered, if Derek hadn’t been hovering over the boy he wouldn’t have even heard it at all.

 

Stiles’s opinion of himself hurt Derek in a way he didn’t expect. After seeing everything that had happened to Stiles that day, and in days previous, he could confidently say that Stiles was not weak. Even as the boy lay in bed, dwarfed by blankets and looking oh so fragile, Derek wouldn't use the word helpless. The Alpha climbed into bed next to Stiles, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when the boy curled up next to him. Derek couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he wrapped his arms, protectively, around Stiles.

"If it wasn't for you, Scott wouldn't be alive right now. You are not weak," Derek knew his words wouldn’t change anything, but they were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"I don't believe you." Stiles answered, his voice muffled from where it was pressed against Derek’s shoulder.

"I know you don't,” Derek sighed, aching for the pain Stiles was feeling, “but it's the truth. Now sleep, amore, I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep."

After that no words were spoken, the only sound that filled the room was Stiles's light snoring.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Stiles woke up the next morning to a cold, empty bed. He shivered and pulled the blankets tighter around him. Already, the events from the day before were playing over and over in Stiles’s head with perfect clarity. That meant everything from the moment he woke up...to when he fell asleep was real.  
Stiles wasn’t surprised, per say, but he was disappointed to find Derek was gone. He knew The Alpha had only promised to stay until Stiles had fallen asleep, but he had hoped-

The boy wrapped his arms around his chest, as if to stop his heart from inevitably beating out of his body. It was foolish to hope.

Stiles had hoped what happened yesterday was a dream. He had hoped to wake up and not feel the stain of blood that was not his own, a phantom, on his hands. He had hoped Derek would have stayed to chase away the thoughts that now plagued Stiles’s mind.  
He had hoped, and now was drowning in his own disappointment.

“You’re pathetic,” Stiles whispered to himself, trying to chase his own worthlessness away. One day, there would be a time those words didn’t hurt as much as they did now. He knew it was true, he thought he had known it was true since the first time his dad threw a bottle. But, knowing it was true didn’t make it hurt any less.  
Stiles remembered how at peace he had felt the night before.

He remembered how good it had felt to have someone holding him, taking care of him. He hadn’t been taken care of in a long time. Derek’s hands had been so soothing on his touch starved skin, the memory seemed to blindside him with an intensity. 

As much as Stiles might have disliked the guy, he was indebted to Derek. Derek had taken care of him when he needed it, and that wasn’t something Stiles would forget anytime soon.

He could only wish that Derek had taken care of him because he wanted to, not because he felt obligated to. Stiles knew the only reason Derek had been so kind to him was because of guilt. He didn't care about Stiles in the way Stiles wanted him to.

In the way you care about him, a traitorous voice in the back of his head spoke up.

Stiles wished he could discard the thought with laughable ease, but found that once it was there he couldn’t stop dwelling on it. Did he...had he...come to care for Derek Hale?  
If Stiles was being honest with himself, he had stopped hating the man a while ago. Don’t get him wrong, The Alpha drove Stiles up the wall. But, Stiles had come to view their interactions with a certain fondness that hadn't been there before.

A realization hit him.

Stiles had finally come to care about someone. Except it was someone he could never have. It didn’t matter what he felt. He knew Derek didn’t feel the same. He had enough evidence of the fact to last him a lifetime.

The boy bit his lip hard, trying to take his mind off of the aching black hole that seemed to replace where his heart was supposed to be.  
Maybe he was wrong.  
Maybe Stiles didn’t actually care about Derek. Maybe he had latched onto the first person who had taken care of him and his head had mistaken the kindness for something more.  
Stiles didn’t like Derek, he liked how Derek had treated him. All that meant was he had to find someone else who could take Derek’s place and he could let this stupid infatuation go.

Even he couldn’t make himself believe that.

Stiles groaned and rolled over to the other side of the bed, his face was now buried in Derek's pillow. The boy breathed in deep, the smell of the other man’s cologne still lingering in the cover’s. But, the side of the bed had gone cold from the hours that had passed since it had been used.  
In that moment, Stiles was disgusted with himself. 

This wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a pathetic boy moping over unrequited feelings that he wasn’t sure he really had. Stiles was sick of feeling like a helpless damsel in distress twenty four seven.  
The sadness the boy had felt was slowly morphing its way into anger. 

He didn’t have time to deal with this shit. Isaac was missing, Scott was hurt, and Stiles was in denial. That was a full time job! He couldn’t let his mind stray to thoughts of The Alpha when Stiles was the only one who really knew what happened yesterday.  
With a newfound energy Stiles shot out of bed, still in his night clothes.  
He was going to have to find Derek and give him all the information he could remember on the kidnapping that had taken place.  
It was the only way he wouldn’t go out of his mind.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"DEREK!" 

The Alpha in question heard Stiles calling for him long before he saw the boy. 

It was obvious that Stiles was not too happy, and after the previous day Derek felt an obligation to make sure he was alright.

Obligation, sure, a traitorous voice in his head spoke up. 

The Alpha scowled and quickly discarded the thought. After what happened Derek had every right to want to check in with Stiles. Sure, he had never felt any sort of want for other prisoners before, but Derek was firmly not thinking about that.

No hostage had ever held onto Derek like they would lose their minds if they didn’t, like he was their savior. The Alpha still felt a sense of uneasiness when he thought of Stiles, pliant, in his arms. No person with so much fire in them should ever look so defeated.  
So, really, it was no question as to why Derek quickly stood up from behind his desk and crossed his office like someone was on his tail. Stiles was calling for him, and he would answer.

The Alpha opened the door to a disgruntled Stiles, his hand raised to knock.  
Derek hadn’t expected the boy to be standing so close, and couldn’t stop his momentum before The Alpha was chest to chest with the boy. 

Derek felt Stiles inhale sharply as their eyes met. Some of the fight seemed to seep out of the boy as Derek stared at him, taking him in for everything he was. In that moment, Derek saw Stiles. Truly saw him through the brown depths of his eyes, and everything he saw was beautiful.  
Derek felt Stiles’s hand lay lightly on his chest. The Alpha easily brought his own hand up to encourage him. But, it seemed he had crossed some invisible line.

The moment between the two was broken as Stiles blinked rapidly and pulled away. Immediately Derek missed the warmth of a body pressed against his own.

"Did you start yet?" Stiles asked, his voice shaky. The boy was firmly looking anywhere but at Derek’s face and rubbing his arm tensely.

"Start what?” Derek questioned, still trying to look into the boy’s warm brown eyes. But, as much as he wished it hadn’t, the moment was truly gone.

"The start to find my lost sanity, haven’t been able to find it…”  
Derek stared in confusion. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“To find Isaac dumbass!" The boy exclaimed, his voice gaining back the irritability it had lost from before. That’s all it took to snap Derek out of his head. He was someone Stiles needed to learn to be afraid of.

"Yes," The Alpha spoke coolly, rising to his full height. It didn’t escape his notice how Stiles’s eyes were now trained on every move he made,"we did."

Derek almost wanted to make Stiles beg. Beg for the information he clearly so desperately wanted. But, Derek wasn’t cruel. The image of the boy that he had carried in his arms only hours ago was still fresh in his mind.

"We don’t have many leads. We don’t know who did this, or what they want. It’s going to take time, Stiles,” it wasn’t the answer either of them wanted, but it was all they had so far.

"Brown eyes, dirty blond hair, female, skinny, she wore black everything with heavy boots, and a pendant. I found it odd at the time that's why I remembered it," Stiles stated calmly, a hardness to his features that bothered Derek for a reason he couldn’t understand.

"...What?" The Alpha asked, stupidly.

"The attacker, obviously," Stiles answered like it was the simplest thing in the world. 

Derek sighed heavily and rubbed his face. He was an idiot, and Stiles was going to be the death of him. Why hadn’t he realized Stiles had probably seen the kidnapper? It seemed so obvious now. Derek had been inraptured by Stiles last night and it had made him sloppy. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake like that again. 

"Come here," Derek growled, and grabbed Stiles’s arm harshly to pull him into the office.  
Stiles didn’t even try to put up a defense as he was thrown into the chair Derek had recently vacated. The Alpha, not caring for the mess he made, tore open drawers and cabinets until he found a blank sheet of paper and a pen. Then Derek turned back to him. 

"Right down every detail you remember about what you saw, even things that may not seem important,” Derek barked at the boy, irrationally angry that Stiles hadn’t said anything sooner.

Stiles hadn’t been in his right mind, and wasn't to blame for any of this. Derek knew that. He also knew that he was deflecting his own guilt about the situation onto Stiles, and that wasn’t fair. But, he couldn’t seem to stop the anger from seeping into his voice. Stiles made Derek lose control, and that was never a good thing. 

For the next twenty minutes, the pair sat in silence. The only noise being the scratching of the pen on paper.  
It gave Derek time to think, which he had firmly refused to do since the night previous...

 

True to his word, Derek had stayed with Stiles until he fell asleep. If he could’ve, he wouldn't have left Stiles at all. But, Derek needed to find Isaac and make sure Scott was ok.  
The Alpha remembered kissing Stiles’s forehead, before leaving him to check on Scott.

To Derek’s relief, his pack member had not been in vital condition. He had found him asleep in a spare bedroom with the rest of the pack surrounding him. The Alpha hadn’t announced his presence in fear of getting asked to stay. He had work to do. 

Even from watching the pack in one room, it had felt wrong. They were missing a key member that Derek vowed to get back. Not only for Scott’s sanity, but for all of theirs. The Alpha had slipped from the room like a shadow in the night...

"This is all I remember," Stiles spoke, void of emotion, startling Derek out of his reminiscing. The boy handed Derek the paper, and was halfway across the room before speaking again.

"Sorry, you had to stay with me last night,” Stiles whispered, a vulnerability to him that Derek had glimpsed the night before, “I was being ridiculous, it won't happen again."

The Alpha outwardly flinched. But, before he could stop Stiles, the boy slammed the door and was gone.

Derek ached to go after Stiles. He wanted to convince the boy that he would’ve done what he did time and time again, if it meant helping him. But, The Alpha in him knew he couldn’t.  
Derek sighed and looked down at the messy scrawl written across the page, he had work to do.


	11. Chapter 11

  
_Dark brown eyes shone bright with malicious intent…_

_Blond hair flowed down her naked back…_

_A pendant wrapped, always, around her pale neck…_

_Derek squirmed, feeling sweat bead down his spine. He was too hot. It felt like he was being burned from the inside out._

_“You were too late, Der,” came a sing song voice from the darkness surrounding him._

_“Too late to save Mommy and Daddy or your sisters and brothers. Too late to save Isaac and Scott...too late to save Stiles…”_

  
~~~~~~~~~~

  
“NO,” Derek cried, waking himself from his own nightmare.

He jumped out of the chair he had dozed off in, and scanned the room wildly for danger. There was a pounding in his ears and it was dark all around him. He couldn’t see or hear his surroundings which made him uncharacteristically vulnerable.

The Alpha stumbled backwards trying to get away from whatever hunted him in the darkness. But, the back of his heel caught on the leg of his recliner and he fell backwards, twisting in mid air so he landed on his stomach.  
A loud crash echoed in the room as The Alpha made contact with the wood paneling floor, the air flew out of his lungs.

Derek lay curled on the ground, shivering, as he desperately tried to inhale.  
  
“Not real,” he wheezed, hearing a clear sound for the first time since he woke up. Derek drew breath in, finding it easier and easier the more he focused.

“Not real, not real, not real,” he repeated over and over again until he believed it. He wasn’t an oblivious sixteen year old boy anymore who thought the world sat in the palm of his hand. Years had passed since the fire, years had passed since his world had burned to the ground. Everything was different now. He was different now.

Derek tenderly ran his hands over his body, checking for any major injury. He was fine save for the tears he hadn’t realized where steadily pouring from his eyes. He shook from head to toe as he forced himself in a sitting position and furiously wiped the wetness from his face. Embarrassment colored his cheeks.  
  
This was pathetic. He was a full grown man he shouldn’t be crying over something as trivial as a nightmare.   
The Alpha wrapped his arms around his knees and looked around the room. His sitting chair near the fireplace was turned over from his spill to the ground, but besides his own imagination, there was no threat in the room.   
Derek stood up and gingerly righted the piece of furniture he had fallen asleep on.

The Alpha didn’t remember when exactly he had drifted off, but it had been midday the last he remembered and from the darkness outside the windows it was now late into the night.   
He supposed that’s what he earned for barely getting any sleep in the past three days.

Three long days had gone by since Isaac’s kidnapping, and Derek had spent every waking and non waking hour dedicated to figuring out what happened. He had barely made contact with the pack or Stiles. And he felt their absence taking a toll. Without someone to anchor him he was losing his mind.

Derek had holed himself up in his office for the better part of seventy-two hours, vigorously going over all of the clues he had been given.

Mainly, he was stuck on Stiles’s description of the women he had seen in Scott and Isaac’s room.   
Something about the details seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place where he recognized them. He knew handfuls of blond haired women in his line of work, any number of them could have been who Stiles had seen.

But, none of the suspects seemed right to Derek.   
None of them had any grudge against The Alpha or his pack.

Derek walked over to his desk, picking up the paper Stiles had written for him. The pristine page was now crumpled and fraying from how many times Derek had held it in his hands.

Blond hair…

Brown eyes…

Light skin…

Large pendant…

Derek’s eyes widened. No, it couldn’t be.

A fear he thought he would never feel again blindsided him. The Alpha dropped the paper back onto the desk as if it was burning.

Ominous thunder rolled outside, as if an omen that he was on the right trail. Moonlight shown in through the window illuminating his desk and the paper that sat, seemingly inconspicuous, on it.  
The nightmare he had woken from seemed to make more sense. His subconscious had figured out the puzzle and had been waiting for him to catch on to the game.  
Well now, Derek was a player.  
  
The Alpha hoped he was wrong. He had never hoped more then in that second that this was a mistake, and he was merely being haunted by past mistakes. But, he couldn’t rest easy until his fears had been truly put to rest.  
Derek made a beeline for the door. Feeling for the second time that night that the shadows in the room where watching him, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

  
~~~~~~~~~~

  
The Alpha pounded on the door. It opened on an annoyed Allison, glaring at him.

"What?" She snapped at Derek, "we’re in the middle of eating dinner."

The Alpha took in her flushed cheeks and wrinkled blouse, and gave her a skeptical look.

"Ok, maybe we weren't eating dinner, but my statement still stands," she argued, a blush spreading on her neck. But, Derek wasted no more time in teasing her. He was still rattled from his discovery.

"Look," The Alpha grunted, shoving Stiles’s description into her hands.  
“Stiles, wrote this out for me days ago. I couldn’t figure out why it sounded so familiar. At least, not until now."   
Allison glanced questioningly at him before snatching the paper out of his hands. She slipped further into the hallway with him and closed the door to her room. This was official business, she didn’t want Lydia to worry just yet. Derek thought that maybe he was started to understand that feeling of protectiveness.

As he expected, it took Allison much less time than him to figure the paper out. Her face went white, and she shoved the note back into his chest with shaky hands.

“No...Derek, no…” she insisted, wide eyed. The sliver of hope he had that she would prove him wrong vanished.

“Tell me I’m crazy,” The Alpha pleaded with her, “Tell me I’m a fool, Allison.”

That seemed to sober her up. A blank mask glazed Allison’s features and she stood tall, taking a step back to her door.

“Kate’s dead, Derek. We saw to it ourselves. Don’t dwell on ghosts, we need you sharp to find Isaac. Besides, The Argent Clan hasn’t dared to challenge us in years. They know their place.”

Derek’s shoulders slumped. Part of him was relieved she was so certain this was a coincidence.

“Goodnight, Derek,” Allison said before leaving him alone in the hallway.

The Alpha stood in front of the door weary with exhaustion, replaying the conversation in his head.

 _Part_ of him was relieved she was so certain he was wrong. A bigger part had seen the fear in her eyes, and knew she was lying.

  
~~~~~~~~~~

 

Four days had gone by, and Stiles was slowly losing his mind.   
He lay, shirtless, in bed as he stared hard at the ceiling. He hadn’t been able to sleep much the past few days. Whether that was from Derek’s absence or his own guilt over Isaac and Scott he didn’t know.  
For once, he wasn’t upset that Derek hadn’t been sleeping with him. In fact, he was glad The Alpha had been absent from their nightly routine. That meant that Derek was working on finding Isaac. That was all that mattered.   
If the distance also gave Stiles time to get over his newfound feelings for the man, no one needed to know that.

Sometimes his days would go great. He would visit the pack, maybe let Lydia teach him some self defense moves, and generally feel ok. But, then there were the times during the day where his emotions would eat him up inside until he physically had to sit down so he didn’t fall over. His thoughts would end up playing in a vicious circle. First, he’d get an ache in his chest where he wanted to see Derek and talk to him and have him hold him again so he felt safe. Then that feeling would twist and Stiles would feel angry with himself for craving the affection when he was trying to get over The Alpha. But, both emotions always ended up being overcome by the guilt. He should be doing something, anything for either Scott or Isaac. Thoughts of Derek shouldn’t even be in his mind.

Stiles had gone to see Scott everyday since he got shot, but the brunette was asleep most of the time and Stiles’s presence was useless. That left the boy to dwell on only one thing… Isaac. Somehow, Stiles needed to help Isaac. But, he didn’t even know where to start when his friend was missing.

Stiles’s eyes went wide as an idea started formulating in his head.

Yes, that’s what he was going to do.   
Stiles was going to find Isaac.

He’d go around to neighboring buildings and ask around if anyone had seen anything suspicious. Sure, it wasn’t the best he could do, but it was a start.   
Stiles shot out of bed, noticing that it was seven o’clock. If he hurried he could catch store owners as they were locking up for the night.  
The boy threw on a shirt and was almost out the door when he stopped.

Stiles turned slowly. Shadows danced across his face as he made his way over to Derek’s dresser. He was hesitant to go through it, feeling like he was sticking his hand in the cookie jar. But Derek would want him to be safe, right?  
The boy didn’t bother thinking too long on that answer and started rummaging around.

He searched through carefully laid clothing and other personal belongings, pushing everything to the side until his fingers brushed the cool metal of a gun. Stiles shivered, adrenaline racing through him as he wrapped his hand around the heavy weight of the weapon and pulled it out of its hiding place.  
Stiles knew what he held was the gun Derek often slept with. It was the same one he had pulled on Stiles when they first woke in bed together. The boy often saw The Alpha returning it to this exact spot in the morning.

Stiles closed the drawer, holding the gun gingerly. He had seen the damage these weapons could cause first hand, and didn’t plan on having any accidents that night. Carefully, he slid the gun into his back pocket, making sure it was hidden from the untrained eye.  
Nerves sparked through Stiles. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, but it felt like he was going behind Derek’s back.

The boy breathed in deeply.

It was exhilarating.

~~~~~~~~~~

  
Stiles had to use the back entrance of the building to get out. He didn’t want any pack members to see him or stop him. They wouldn’t understand his need to do this.

They would call for Derek who would try to stop Stiles, and Isaac didn’t have time to waste. Stiles wouldn’t be the reason this investigation was derailed. So, he slipped out the back door when no one was looking and stepped into an old alleyway that reeked of smoke and waste.   
The boy quietly closed the door behind him, praying no one heard. He waited a few moments to make sure no one came running, and stepped away when no alarms were raised.

This was where it happened. Stiles looked up, crossing his arms protectively around his middle. He hadn’t been prepared for the shock of emotion that hit him when he glanced upwards, spotting the widow the kidnapper had jumped out of.

“I’ll find you, Isaac. I promise,” He whispered to himself, and turned to start his mission.

But, the boy didn't make it far before something caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

  
Stiles froze.

The blond was passed out, which was why he hadn’t caught Stiles’s eye before. He was shoved away in the far corner of the alley with blood gushing from his nose.   
His bright blue eyes were almost sealed shut from swelling, and dark blue bruises littered his shivering body.  
He was a mess, covered in a mixture of blood and dirt. And he was tied up with painful looking rope that was turning his hands blue.  
But, even so, Stiles knew who lay before him.

"Isaac," Stiles whispered before rushing to his side. He fell to his knees besides his friend, and quickly started at the knots that held the boy hostage.

Stiles’s hands were shaking, but he was determined to keep his cool this time. He had failed Scott, he wouldn’t fail Isaac too.  
Stiles blocked his mind of the eerily still body in front of him and only focused on the ropes. He would take this one step at a time.

Isaac was breathing. Releasing him from the bonds was Stiles’s next priority.  
To the boy’s surprise the knots were relatively simple. It was almost like someone had wanted him to be able to undo them.  
Which led his mind to wander.   
How did Isaac get here? It didn’t look like he had gotten away on his own as he was passed out and tied up.  
Did someone help him? Or had the kidnapper brought him back once they were...done with him.  
An uneasy feeling ran down Stiles’s spine. It didn’t matter at the moment how Isaac got back, he’d be dead if Stiles didn’t get more experienced help.

“I’ll be right back,” Stiles whispered to Isaac, though the boy was still unconscious.  
Stiles sprinted back to the door and made his way inside. He stopped the first pack member he saw.

“Erica!,” Stiles shouted, getting her attention, “get help, Isaac’s in the alley behind the building.”

The blond’s eyes went wide and she called out to him, but he had already turned away from her to go back outside.  
Isaac was right where Stiles left him, expect this time he was almost conscious.

“Scott…what happened to….Scott,” Isaac choked out. He was fumbling over his words like he was learning to speak for the first time, but Stiles was simply elated he was awake.

“He’s safe, everyone’s safe. You’re going to be ok, too, help is on the way.”  
That seemed to relax the blond as his eyes started to drift closed again and a small smile spread across his cracked lips.

Stiles waited besides Isaac until he heard the sound of footsteps.

Derek burst through the door, gun aimed and ready. Looking like he was about to murder someone.  
Even in this moment Stiles thought there was something beautiful in the all consuming rage in his eyes.  
Behind The Alpha came a flustered looking Allison, Lydia and Erica.  
They all seemed confused yet relieved at seeing Isaac in Stiles’s arms, but Stiles didn’t have time to fill them all in.

  
"Get the doctor," was all the boy said, Derek took one look at him and was running back inside for help.   
The other pack members hurried over to where Isaac lay.

"Help me get him inside, who knows what will happen if he stays out here any longer," Stiles ordered.  
To his surprise the girls obeyed him without hesitation. It was odd. He had been sure they would be worried more about getting answers than Isaac’s health, as he was clearly alive. But, it seemed they understood the severity of the situation and they all contributed to carrying Isaac’s weight.

The four rushed their packmate into a guest room on the main floor, putting him gently on the bed. Stiles heard Isaac whimper in pain, and cringed.

"Sorry, Isaac. Just..hang in there," Stiles looked at his friend worriedly and shared a concerned look with the three girls.

  
"Stiles?" Derek called from somewhere on the floor. The boy rushed out of the room and saw him at the end of the hallway with the doctor, Deaton was his name, in tow.

"In here!" Stiles exclaimed, the two immediately started jogging over.

Deaton was the first in the room. He took a look at the blond on the bed, and ordered them all to wait outside.

  
~~~~~~~~~~

 

It felt like hours went by as they all waited for news. Stiles noticed dawn approaching from a nearby window.

Allison had fallen asleep on Lydia who was lightly snoring. And Erica and Boyd, who had come down as soon as he heard what happened, were curled up together leaning against the wall. Even Peter had come to see Isaac, but he, too, was passed out.

The only other person, besides Stiles, who was awake was...him.

For a while the two had simply waited in silence, neither having the energy for conversation. Stiles wished it would stay that way. But, as he’d said many a time, he didn’t have the best of luck.

"Why is my gun in your pocket, Stiles?" Derek finally asked. Stiles could tell The Alpha had been stewing in something for a while now, but he hadn’t expected that to be the first thing he blurted out.

Stiles looked at Derek fully, something he had avoided doing all night.   
Derek looked so vulnerable, it was unsettling.  
Stiles always had an image of The Alpha in his head to be strong, and never show weakness. But, now he was sickly pale and had bags under his hazel eyes.  
Stiles wished he could say he wasn't worried.

Derek sat, waiting for Stiles to answer.   
Desperate for Stiles to answer.

Then it clicked.

"You thought I was trying to run away." It wasn't a question.

Derek's guard immediately went up. Stiles cursed himself.

"That's not an answer," The Alpha growled.

The boy sighed, if he hadn’t been sure before he was now. Derek thought Stiles had been trying to escape. Already a million questions were spinning in Stiles’s head, but he knew it would end in a fight if he asked any of them. So, for once, Stiles kept his mouth shut.

Instead he focused on looking less guilty when he gave Derek what he wanted.

"I wasn’t trying to leave, I was going to look for Isaac," his words ended in a whisper, like he was hoping Derek wouldn’t hear him. There was no sugar coating what he had tried to do. Derek was going to be mad either way.

Oh, but how Stiles underestimated his reaction.

Derek wasn't mad, he was furious.  
At first The Alpha didn't say anything, like he was trying to process what Stiles’s words meant in the first place. But, it didn’t take long for the man’s rage to build up until his was practically vibrating with it.

"What the hell were you thinking!,” Derek growled, his voice taking on a deep tone that made Stiles feel like the scared little boy he had once been, “What if police saw you with a gun hanging out of your back pocket for anyone to see? What if you ran into the people who had taken Isaac? What would you have done Stiles, shot them?”  
Sarcasm dripped from Derek’s words.

“That is what a gun is for,” Stiles muttered in an attempt to defend himself, he should have known better. Steam was shooting out of Derek’s ears.

“Look at me Stiles,” even from the opposite side of the room, Stiles was powerless to resist the command in Derek’s voice. The Alpha’s eyes showed no remorse, “If you had ran into the people who did this, you would’ve been dead before your hand reached your pocket.”

Embarrassment heated Stiles’s cheeks, and he pulled his gaze away from Derek’s incriminating stare. He hadn’t been expecting the severity of Derek’s reaction, and found an ache spreading in his chest that hadn’t been there before. Derek was disappointed in him, and it kind of made Stiles want to scream.

But, he didn’t have long to dwell.

"Where's Isaac?" came a desperate voice from the hallway, startling the two men.

“Scott!” Stiles squeaked in surprise, consequently waking the sleeping pack. They all jumped to their feet, bleary eyed and looking for trouble. But, when they spotted their limping packmate, they all hurried to his aid.

  
"What are you doing?"

  
"You’re an idiot!"

"You’re going to pull your stitches!"

"How did you make it down the stairs?"

  
"You need a shower!" That one was Peter.

The voices kept mingling until a singular voice cut through them all, catching everyone’s attention once again.

"Scott?"

"Scott is that you?" Isaac sounded from behind the door the pack had been huddled around all night.  
The brunette immediately started pushing past his friends in a frenzy. His pain was momentarily forgotten as forced his way into Isaac's room. The pack followed suit.

What they saw, well, it broke Stiles’s heart.  
  
Scott had stumbled into the room and was climbing onto the bed. The brunette maneuvered himself until he was clutching Isaac so you couldn't see where one started and the other ended.  
Isaac had his face buried into Scott's shoulder. He was sobbing.

"I was so scared Scott, I...I thought you were dead."

"Shh darling, relax. I'm right here I'm not going anywhere. You can't get rid of me that easily," Scott cooed, whispering words of endearment into Isaac's ear.

The satisfaction at seeing the two reunited was enough of a relief that the pack, and Deaton, all shuffled out the door. Giving the two their much deserved privacy.

Stiles was the last one out and he closed the door behind him, the pack was already heading their separate ways to get some much needed sleep. Stiles, too was about to head for the stairs, thinking the eventful night was over when a hand clasped down on his shoulder. The boy’s energy was renewed, anxiety clawed at his throat.

"Meet me in my office in five minutes," Derek growled in Stiles’s ear. When the boy had enough courage to turn around, The Alpha was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late but its extra long to make up for it  
> All the love


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but we delivered SMUT in this chapter so if you don’t want to read about DEREK AND STILES HAVING SEX skip the ending of this

  
  
Stiles trudged up the stairs, walking as if to the gallows. Which didn’t seem too far off from his point of view.

The boy’s hands were shaking slightly, and different images of what Derek would inflict on him raced through his head.    
Stiles didn't want to be scared, but to say he wasn't would be a lie.   
He had seen the man’s tantrums first hand, but this would be the first time he was on the receiving end of things.

Derek couldn't be that angry, could he?   
He seemed like an angry guy in general. This was probably just a little angrier then normal for him.    
But, The Alpha’s words from only minutes ago still bounced around in Stiles’s head. 

A hopeful outcome did not seem to be in the boy’s future.

The only thing Stiles was certain of, was that he didn’t know anything at all. Best case scenario, Derek chastised him. Worst scenario...well he didn’t really want to think too hard on that.

If there was any way to stomp out Stiles’s feelings for The Alpha, killing him was a sure way to do it.

Too quickly for his liking, Stiles reached Derek's office.

The wooden door that the boy had always thought of as somewhat elegant, now seemed to foreshadow his doom. 

Stiles snorted, even with fear clouding his judgement, he realized that was a bit dramatic. But, he was dealing with a mafia leader. He couldn’t be too careful.

_ Maybe you can reason with him,  _ Stiles thought to himself, pondering the best way to get out of the situation. If he could tell his side of the story before Derek went off on him, he had a chance. 

Stiles drew in a breath, trying to ease the fear thrumming through his veins. He was capable of handling this meeting without it going off the deep end. There was hope. Even if it seemed very, very dim. 

Before Stiles could freak himself out any further, he pushed open the door...and barely stepped inside when a loud crash made him shriek. 

Immediately, Stiles curled in on himself. His arms wrapped protectively around his abdomen, and he prayed he didn't have a knife sticking out of his sternum.

But, when no rush of pain pushed its way past the adrenaline, Stiles chanced a glance around him. 

The boy wouldn’t deny he expected to see overturned furniture and claw like marks ruining the wallpaper. But, was surprised to see everything in order. Well almost.

Stiles met Derek's shocked expression with his own. Puzzled the boy followed The Alpha’s line of sight and saw it. Shattered on the ground not a foot away from him, were the remains of a glass vase.   
  
Stiles turned back to Derek, something painful churning in his gut.

"That could have hit me," Stiles gulped, stepping backwards until his body made contact with the door that seemed to have closed on its own.

 

“You...you were trying to hit me.”   
  


Derek’s spine visible straightened, and he crossed his arms, “You don’t get to turn this around on me, not after what you tried to do.”

 

“What- What did I try to do?” Stiles asked quietly, only taking a moment to realize what The Alpha meant. And then, well then he was furious himself, “Save my friend?”

 

Because that was exactly what this was all about, wasn’t it.

 

“You’re mad because I succeeded in what you didn’t. Isaac’s safe now! But, you fling a glass object at my head and I’m not aloud to be mad. Or...”

 

Siles caught himself before he said the word scared. He wouldn’t give Derek the satisfaction. 

Not that it mattered, The Alpha had managed to cut him off anyway.

 

“I didn’t throw it at you on purpose, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I’m never going to hurt you. When will you realize that,” Derek growled to him, losing what little patience he had. The Alpha’s hands gripped the edge of the desk behind him until his knuckles were white.

The statement fueled Stiles in a way he truly wasn’t expecting. But, his anger took control, and there was no stopping him.

 

“I don’t know anything about you, besides the fact that you’re a monster.” 

 

Derek’s head shot upwards, shocked. An emotion Stiles couldn’t quite decipher lay in the man’s featured. But, Stiles was unyielding, and the words poured from his mouth.

 

“You capture and hurt people for a living. What am I supposed to think? That I’m special somehow? That you won’t hurt me because...I don’t even know why you wouldn’t.”

 

“You know nothing of monster’s,” Derek said. The air in the room changed, sending a shiver down Stiles’s spine. No longer were they arguing to be petty, something much darker had taken its place and Stiles knew he was about to jump right into it.

 

“Don’t tell me what I know.”

 

“Don’t assume to know what I am, and I won’t,” Derek replied, quick witted.

The answer was so definite, it left Stiles speechless. Something very few could lay claim to.

Nonetheless, the boy nodded his head in acceptance. The Alpha replied in turn. 

Some strange understanding clicked between the two. As if they both realized they had lived through things that would have destroyed others. They were survivors. It was the one characteristic they shared. Through all their differences, this was what brought them together.

 

“Peter’s a monster,” Stiles whispered into the quiet room. For a moment, he thought The Alpha was once again going to argue with him. But, to the boy’s surprise, Derek nodded the affirmative.

 

“But, only by circumstance,” Derek seemed to insist, though his tone was steady as always. Stiles gulped, already regretting the words he was about to speak. But, if anything between them was going to change, it had to be said.

 

“Sometimes, you remind me of him.”

 

Derek huffed a humorless laugh, “Why? Because I want you to be safe instead of chasing after seasoned killers?”

 

It didn’t slip The Alpha’s notice that Stiles eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Or that his nose crinkled in a way that made Derek’s stone heart ache. A need ran through Derek so deeply, he was almost certain he was going to die from it. Stiles truly didn’t know that all Derek did was too protect him.

Carefully, so as not to startle, Derek walked closer to the boy. Every step made a quiet creak against the floor until the two were nose to nose. Stiles’s cheeks went red at such intimacy, but couldn’t force himself to step back when Derek’s dark brown eyes pulled him so far in.

 

“I’m nothing like Peter,” Derek whispered in a way one would whisper to his lover. Stiles breathed in hard, once, before Derek’s lips were firmly placed on his.

The world paused. There seemed to be no sound, or smell, or interruptions. Derek’s lips where on Stiles, and somehow it was perfect. It shouldn’t have been. They were wrong for eachother. One too reckless, the other too guarded. It was  _ wrong _ .

But, it didn’t feel that way.

It took Stiles a moment to respond, but respond he did. This wasn't a romantic kiss. It wasn't slow or sensual, it was clashing teeth and lip biting. It was Stiles nipping at Derek’s flesh until they both tasted blood and vise versa. It was almost unbearable.  
And it was the best thing either of them had felt in such a long time.  
  
Derek shoved Stiles against the wall as the kiss grew deeper, using his hands to pin the smaller ones above his head. But, Stiles wasn’t complaining if his eagerness was anything to go by.

When Derek pulled back, Stiles sucked in air like he was drowning. Gasping as if Derek had stolen the oxygen straight from his lungs. Stiles almost huffed a laugh at the thought, because he realized it was true. He was Derek’s, thoroughly. If The Alpha wanted the air Stiles breathed, he would give it to him without a second thought.

It was a dangerous power to have over someone, but Stiles couldn’t have cared less when Derek’s lips touched his skin again.

The Alpha, who was blind to the boy’s revelation, moved his mouth to Stiles’s chin and neck. Sucking large bruises all over the place for Stiles to remember in the morning.

God, did Derek want that. He wanted Stiles to wake up tomorrow morning and feel like he belonged to Derek as much as Derek belonged to him. Which was a frightening amount.

  
The Alpha listened as Stiles whined desperately in his ear while Derek marred the soft, pale flesh.    
He bit down hard on the boy’s collar bone, trying to find a sweet spot. And grinned against the skin when Stiles moaned blissfully.   
  
"Derek," he pleaded, and Derek knew his name had never sounded sweeter, "more..please...more."   
  


The Alpha felt some invisible barrier inside him break. There was no going back from this. He was wrapped around Stiles finger with no hope or want of detangling himself.

 

“Be patient, amore,” Derek promised, “I'll take care of you."   
  


With that, he let go of Stiles’s arms so he could take off their shirts and pants.   
Stiles’s free hands immediately put themselves to use by pulling Derek’s hair until The Alpha gave in and kissed him again.   
Derek quickly found that Stiles was impatient, and desperate. He didn't know what he needed, but he knew he needed it.    
It wasn’t a turn off by any means, the opposite in fact, but still Derek reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, "Relax Stiles, relax."   
  


The man kissed Stiles tenderly on the forehead, and mumbled endearments into his ear until the younger stopped trying to jump him.

 

"Better?" Derek mumbled into the others hair.   
  


"Better," Stiles replied, still breathless.

  
The Alpha smirked, but before Stiles could question it, Derek thrust against him.

Stiles moaned his pleasure. It was music to Derek’s ears, and he knew he’d do anything to hear it again.   
  
The Alpha lined their lengths up before doing it once more, slow and torturous. Stiles grabbed onto dark strands of hair and arched into Derek.

  
"Again," he moaned, and who was Derek to deny him anything.   
  
They kept going like that until they both were a sweating panting mess.   
  
"Derek.....more."

The Alpha smiled into Stiles’s neck. The boy was so wound up, it wouldn't take long to finish him off.

With one more hard thrust, Stiles bit into Derek’s neck and came.   
  


Derek groaned.

That was because of him. Stiles’s pleasure was because of him. That thought and another thrust pushed Derek over the edge. Dear lord, seeing stars didn't even begin to cover it.    

  
~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
Derek had Stiles trapped in his arms while the two came down from the high. Their breath intermingled as they panted, holding on so they didn’t collapse to the ground.

Stiles was beautiful wrapped up in Derek like he was. His mouth hanging open slightly, his cheeks tinged pink and his eyes closed just so. 

Derek had no willpower to resist, especially when the boy let out a small whimper. 

The Alpha pushed forward intent to cover Stiles’s mouth with his own. He was trying to express the emotion he felt, but couldn’t say just yet, through that kiss in hopes Stiles understood.

Derek was still too confused by everything, and still a little angry at Stiles’s stunt beforehand. Right now wasn’t the time to say all the endearing words waiting on the tip of his tongue, but the time would come. So when Stiles pushed his way out of Derek’s arms and rushed from the room impatiently, The Alpha didn’t stop him. It wasn’t time yet, but the moment was coming closer, he felt it.

And, he couldn’t deny the fear that came with it.

  
When Stiles said he was going to try to find Isaac himself, it made Derek snap. The images of the boy beaten, and bloody flashed through The Alpha’s head.    
The idea of not being able to protect Stiles terrified the older man.    
It made him realize just how much he actually cared for the boy. And how Derek needed him to be safe and always within arms reach.

The Alpha hit his head on the wall and slumped to the floor putting his head in his hands. For the first time in a long time he was clueless on what to do, and that scared him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this sucked we are kind of in a rut right now with writing but we will try and get back on schedule soon


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Us? Being on time? What is this?

"You gave me your word, Marco," The Alpha growled, low and deep. The vibrations bounced off the basement walls, terrifying the man in front of Derek until he was on the verge of pissing himself. Derek didn’t care how harsh he was being. It seemed whatever emotion he had felt with Stiles the night previous had been ripped away. Replaced only with this cold, unyielding presence.

"You said I’d have what was owed yesterday night. Yet, I’m still three grand poorer.”

 

“I-I'm sorry I swear you'll get your money! Just please d-don't hurt me." Marco was hanging by his wrists from long chains that dangled from the ceiling. By now the numb, tingling sensation in his arm would be turning painful. A grin split Derek’s face.

“I won't hurt you. That would involve tainting my hands with your worthless life,” for a moment there was relief on the man’s face. This was Derek’s favorite part, “Last I heard you have a little girl, and I believe your wife is pregnant, congratulations,” he started, conversationally, “It’s truly a shame.”

The man hung limp, forgetting to even bother holding himself up as fear shook through his body, “What- what’s a shame?” He dared to ask. Derek could respect the courage it took to say.

“That you’ll find them all dead in your apartment. A bullet piercing even the little one’s skull.”  
An agonized scream was torn from the man’s mouth, as he started pulling desperately at the bonds. Probably hoping to rip Derek’s head off. 

“Shut up,” The Alpha growled, not in the mood for dramatics, “They’re not dead yet.”  
Marco’s gaze shot to Derek’s own, hope bleeding into his expression.

“But, they will be if you don’t find a way to pay up.”

“Of course, of course whatever you want just please spare them-”

Derek had already closed the door on the man’s babbling and was on his way up the stairs when the pleading began. Allison and Boyd stood guard at the entrance to the basement. They turned to face him as The Alpha entered from the darkness below.

“Wait another hour then untie him. Let him go back to his family and retrieve the money he has hidden from us under their stairs. If by tomorrow he doesn’t pay. Kill them all.”  
The two nodded, sensing their Alpha’s mood, and left him be.

Derek grunted, feeling himself start to come out of the headspace that let him become The Alpha. For once it had felt nice to slip into the familiar role as it kept him from thinking of the night before. Stiles whimpers in his ears, the warm body flush against his own...the panicked yelp the boy made when he realized what happened and fled from the room.  
Derek felt like an asshole. He had pushed Stiles into something he clearly didn’t want to do, and had ruined what little relationship they had. He had felt guilty not going to bed with the boy that night, knowing it would be hard for the other to sleep. But, he knew his presence wouldn’t be welcome either. He wanted to apologize for his mistakes, and plead for forgiveness though it was not something he was good at. Derek would break down all his barriers if it meant Stiles didn’t hate him.

"You've gone soft, nephew," Peter’s voice startled Derek out of his own head as the man crept out of whatever shadow he was hiding in. 

“What?” Derek asked, making the order clear.

“You’ve gone soft. There once was a time I knew a boy who would have killed that entire family and broken into the house to retrieve the money. Now you barely even chastise the man. What’s to stop him from trying to swindle you again?”

Derek knew he couldn’t let Peter know he had hit a nerve, but it had been sucker punched nonetheless.   
A long time ago there had been a boy who was forced to be a man too soon. He had lost his mind out of grief, and was drunk on his newfound power. That boy didn’t care about anything except control. He killed anyone who stood in his way without thought or remorse, and his name became one all feared. Derek hadn't been proud of what he had been like in the early days. He tried to keep from thinking of those times as a whole. Which was surprisingly easy. He had been drunk of his ass at almost all times and would only ever hear tales of the crimes he committed after they happened.

"It's all the boy’s fault you know,” Peter commented, pulling Derek out of his head, “He’s changing you, and it’s making you weak.”

Derek knew it was a lie. Rationally he knew he had changed his ways long before Stiles had ever entered his life. But, hearing the insult aimed at someone Derek unintentionally cared so much for made his blood boil.

Derek stood at his tallest and glared at the man across from him. Peter’s sharp smile faded, he realized he had lost control of the situation. Quickly.

The Alpha’s hands itched to wrap around his Uncle’s throat and choke an apology out of him. But, Stiles’s words from the night previous were still too present in Derek’s mind.

“Peter’s a monster...Sometimes you remind me of him.”

Derek would not stoop to Peter’s level, no matter how compelling it seemed. If he was to try and be a better person for Stiles, this would be a good start.

“If you say another word against Stiles I’m going to make what I did years ago seem like a goddamn tea party. Watch yourself Peter.”

So, Derek wasn’t perfect. 

He had a feeling Stiles would forgive him on this one. 

Derek stormed away, leaving a fuming Peter behind him. And wasn’t that satisfying.  
It gave him the kick in the ass he needed to do what had to be done. With intent in mind, Derek started making his way to Stiles.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Derek's scruff rubbed against Stiles’s cheek. The boy’s skin tingled pleasantly at the sensation.   
The Alpha quietly whispered words in Stiles’s ear that made the boy blush and squirm. Yet, he was so focused on the fingers inside him he was barely aware of his surroundings.

 

"Beautiful, amore. You’re beautiful like this.”

Stiles whimpered at the praise, knowing that if he focused on what was coming out of his mouth he would be ashamed.

He could feel Derek's long thick fingers reach places in him he had never known existed. Derek would press in one spot in particular that made an electric current shoot through his body. 

But, as soon as Stiles pushed down on Derek, trying to find the spot himself, The Alpha would smirk and change his position. Derek was teasing him. He had been for half an hour now.

"Derek, please. I'll do anything," Stiles couldn't take the games anymore. He was losing his goddamn mind.  
With the pad of his thumb, Derek gently wiped at the wetness falling from Stiles’s eyes. The boy was lost in his own pleasure, he hadn’t even noticed. 

"So pretty for me Stiles. Only for me. I would never let anyone else see you like this. You’re mine and mine only. Do you even know what you look like Stiles?" The boy moaned. Derek was taking his sweet time and it was going to kill him.

"Your puckered, little hole wrapped around my three fingers. Your leaking cock jutted straight up against your stomach. And, god, the sounds you make Stiles. Sometimes they’re quiet little whimpers, but then I do this," Derek thrust his fingers on that spot again to emphasize his point causing Stiles to let out another mortifying sound,"and you scream. So pretty for me Stiles...Stiles....STILES!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Stiles’s eyes snapped open. He had been startled awake by an all too familiar voice. One that he hadn't been able to get out of his head all day.

"Stiles..." Derek said from the doorway, letting in light from the hall. 

Stiles strongly wanted to let rip a string of curse words at his current predicament. During the afternoon, he had decided to rest seeing as he had gotten very little sleep the night before. But, all the events from the day previous seemed to meld in his head and lead him into having the dream he had just woke from. The feel of Derek’s calloused hands all around him still burned his skin like a brand. Needless to say, a conversation with Stiles current fantasy was not the best idea. 

But, it was too late.

Derek knew Stiles was awake. Now Stiles had to decide whether he was going to respond or not.

 

"Stiles... please look at me," the raw emotion in Derek’s voice made the decision for him. Against every rational word, Stiles faced The Alpha.

Just like every time Stiles saw him, this was no different. His heartbeat quickened in his chest at the sight Derek made tentatively standing in the doorway. The Alpha was worn down and tired like he hadn’t slept in a long time, but he was gorgeous. That never seemed to change.   
Stiles met his hazel eyes, his beautiful hazel eyes, and waited for Derek to speak.

"I'm sorry," Derek whispered the apology into the darkened room.

The perfect image that surrounded The Alpha shattered to pieces like broken glass. Reminding Stiles why he had run from the man in the first place. Derek was apologizing for what happened between them last night. Stiles felt his heart shatter. This was what he got for playing with fire. But, still, he felt it wasn’t fair. Derek didn't get to do that. He didn't get to break Stiles’s heart with that simple apology. The boy wanted to hear every mistake Derek thought happened between them, if only so it would crush any hope of his completely.

"For what," Stiles snapped. Derek opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Stiles threw a pillow at him before letting loose.

"There’s always a game when it comes to you, isn’t there,” he screamed, “One day you hold me in your arms like I mean the world to you, the next I'm thrown away like a broken toy. Tell me Derek which specific moment are you sorry for?"

But, Derek stood silently looking like a kicked puppy. Stiles cried out in aggravation and tore the blankets off of him. He stood from the bed and made to leave the room, but Derek wouldn't move from the doorway.

“Get out of my way,” Stiles said, not able to stand the way his entire body ached with sorrow. Derek didn’t feel anything close to how Stiles did, and this was his fucked up way of making it known. 

“Get out of my way,” Stiles said again, angrier this time.

“No,” the Alpha finally growled. Derek grabbed Stiles’s arms and pushed him back into the room, shutting the door violently behind him. He turned on a light, and Stiles cursed him for it. He didn’t want to watch as Derek broke his heart. 

“I know you want me to apologize, Stiles. I know that you want me to say I made a mistake last night by kissing you, but I can’t. It would just be a lie!”

Stiles took a step away from The Alpha, “What?”

“You ran away from me, and didn’t talk to me all day, but I still can’t apologize. What happened last night between us was the best thing I had done in a long time. I felt like I was going out of my mind, and I loved it. If there is anything I can do to repair the relationship between us, I will. But, I won’t apologize.”

The two men stood in the bedroom, silence collecting between them. Until, finally, Stiles jumped into Derek’s arms. Derek caught him easily and rushed forward to meet Stiles’s lips that were halfway there already.  
Derek walked them to the edge of the bed, before setting Stiles on the sheets and landing on top of him.

Stiles let out a breath with the weight on top of him.

“What- what are you doing, Stiles,” Derek whispered against the other’s mouth. 

“Shut up and kiss me you brute,” Stiles insisted pulling him back down. They went on like that for a while, until the passion calmed down to their lips merely brushing against each other's.

“What on earth made you think I regret what happened last night?” Whispered Stiles.

“You ran away. What was I supposed to think,” Derek answered pressing their lips together again.

“Well, you should have talked to me before making assumptions,” Stiles answered, Derek glowered at him, Stiles only laughed.

“I had a realization last night,” Stiles said in way of explanation, “I realized you meant a lot to me, and it scared me, all right? If I had stayed any longer I would have blurted something out neither of us are prepared for. But, I want to try this. I want to try us.”

A blush rose to Stile’s cheeks at the admission, and the intense stare that Derek was looking at him with. It wasn’t daunting, or scary but it was full of a seriousness Stiles wasn’t used to.  
Derek bent down to touch Stiles’s nose with his own, “I want to try us too,” he whispered.

“Really?”

“Really, amore.”

Stiles smiled wide and pulled The Alpha down with renewed need. 

That night both slept well in the safety of the other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though this seems like its going to end soon know that rn we have 25 chapters planned (including these 13) with more to come


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a but of a filler chapter but its needed to start the rest of the plot   
> Also our posting schedule is off we r trying to get back on it but there still might be random updates here or there

The next morning Stiles awoke with his head buried in a warm, strong chest. He snuggled further into his pillow, knowing exactly who he was lying on. For once, there wasn’t a conflicted bone in his body. Stiles smiled when he felt Derek’s arms incircle and pull him closer into the tight embrace.

  
The Alpha was awake, too.   
  
"G'morning," Derek grumbled against the top of Stiles’s head. The boy cheekily nipped at the man’s shoulder as his own form of hello. A kiss on the cheek was Stiles’s answer   
Derek’s soft lips would have felt nice if not for the man’s morning scruff scratching against Stiles’s sensitive skin. The boy couldn’t help but squeal at the prickly points of contact along his jaw. Derek immediately froze. 

 

“What was that?” Derek asked. A handsome, yet mischievous, smile lighting up his face like a Christmas tree.

 

“Absolutely nothing,” Stiles insisted, trying to wiggle away from the scheming man across from him. But, it was too late. The Alpha had him trapped. 

  
"Derek.." Stiles warned, trying to postpone the inevitable.   
But, before another protest could escape him a pair of hands grabbed his own and a set of knees pinned Stiles to the bed.    
  
With a sense of dread, Stiles realized what the bastard was about to do. Using all his effort, the boy bucked and squirmed trying to dislodge Derek from his body. But, there was nothing he could do.   
  
Not one to waste time, Derek bent his head and started rubbing his scratchy beard all over Stiles’s face. The boy screeched and shivered at the sensation that tickled his nerves. 

 

“Der...no...you’re mean...stop it,” Stiles let out cries of protest in between laughing. Derek, too, was enraptured by a childlike joy that was rarely associated with the man.   
  
Derek's scruff felt like sandpaper being rubbed against Stiles’s skin. It hurt and tickled at the same time.   
The boy tried pulling his head away to no avail. His moving just gave Derek more room to work.    
But, without any warning, Stiles’s screeching turned into a moan. Both men halted.

 

Derek had bit Stiles’s neck.   
  
Stiles could feel the change in The Alpha’s ministrations the second they shifted. Derek was quick to work out what had caused the change. Stiles almost rolled his eyes at the unfairness of it all. The fucker wasn’t even trying. Before he could even try to redeem himself, Derek did it again. Stiles moaned loudly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole building heard him.   
  
"You like that, amore? Like having me mark you?" 

 

That stupid, annoying asshole. Stiles knew he was getting hard in his underwear, and had no doubt in his mind that Derek felt it too.   
  
The next time The Alpha bit Stiles was harder, with a different intent than the others. Stiles arched off the bed, his neck begging to have that mouth on it again.

  
"Beautiful, Stiles. You’re beautiful.”

  
Stiles was torn between the need to preen at the compliment, and hide his face away in embarrassment, never to be seen again. He wanted to deny the way Derek’s praise did things to him, but he would be lying if he said otherwise.   
  
Nonetheless, Stiles felt his cheeks heating up. He ripped his hands out of Derek’s loose hold so he could cover his face. But, The Alpha wasn’t having it. 

 

Immediately, Derek was on him, snatched his arms away, and growling in his ear. The tone sent a delightful shiver down Stiles’s spine.

  
"Don’t hide. I want to see you.”   
  


And damn if that didn’t make Stiles sweet a little bit. Taking matters into his own hands, Stiles tentatively thrust upward to meet Derek. He was pleasantly surprised to find Derek was hard too. The Alpha moaned approvingly, but just when things were about to get interesting, there was a knock on the door.   
  
Derek groaned in annoyance, already pulling away from Stiles. Leaving the boy cold at the loss of body heat.

"Who is it!?" The Alpha snapped.

"It's Scott, Derek,” Stiles friend called through the door, “I’m sorry, but it’s urgent. I need to you to come, now!" Scott said. 

 

Stiles looked up at Derek. He could tell the older man didn't want to leave, but the way Scott was sounding, well it was worrying. Whatever the matter was, it was important.

  
"I think you should go, Derek,” Stiles murmured soothingly, running a hand through The Alpha’s dark hair,"it sounds serious." Derek frowned, but pushed into the boy’s touch. He knew Stiles was right, he just didn’t want to leave this bed. Not until he had thoroughly debauched the boy in front of him.    
  
"Can't it wait?" Derek asked, trying to get out of his responsibilities. It happened so rarely, he thought he was entitled to this one moment of laziness. But, the universe didn’t seem to think so.

  
"It's about Isaac... he has new information," Scott replied.    
  
"We'll be down in a second, Scott. Go wait for us with Isaac," Stiles said, taking the decision out of Derek’s hands. Derek grunted as Scott’s steps faded away.

 

Stiles wiggled, trying to get out of the position he was trapped in.

 

"C'mon Der, we have to go," Stiles whined when The Alpha wouldn’t let him up. 

 

Derek's grip on the boy’s wrists loosened. But, before he was allowed up, The Alpha bent down to place a soft, lingering kiss on Stiles’s lips. 

 

Stiles’s cheeks flushed as Derek pulled away, “That’s a promise.”

 

Stiles smirked and pulled Derek into a proper kiss. The Alpha was insufferably smug when the boy pulled away.

 

“For later,” Stiles finished the man’s sentence, “Right now, we have business to take care of.” 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Derek was a liar.

 

He didn’t want to keep things from Stiles. He knew first hand that was a good way to cause a rift between the fragile relationship they had only just started. But, if there was something Derek was certain of, it was that Stiles had to be protected at all costs. If Derek told him what he expected was going on, it would only put the boy at risk. Something Derek had aloud to happen too often. Something Derek was going to fix right now.

 

So, when Stiles asked him if he had any clue as to who was behind Isaac’s attack while they made their way down to McCall’s room, he said no.

 

As previously stated, that was a downright lie.

 

Derek was becoming more and more certain on who the culprit was with each day that passed since he had talked to Allison.

  
The Argent Clan.

  
They were the second most feared gang in New York City. Derek’s pack taking the title of First.   
They were compiled of a bunch of killing machines with no remorse. If it truly was The Argents, Derek would have a full fledged war on his hands. 

 

But, they weren’t at that point yet. There were questions that still needed answering. For, although he had no like for them, The Argent Clan taught Derek an important lessen long ago. 

 

Know one’s enemies.

  
There was still the general question of why The Argent's would do this? Why now? As far as Derek was aware, his pack hadn't done anything to tick them off as of late. Certainly nothing to warrant a kidnapping.   
  
After what happened with Allison, both sides had made a point not to cross paths with each other.    
The only other option was that Allison was somehow working with old loyalties again. But, Derek didn’t actually believe that for a second. He  _ knew _ Allison was faithful to him. She had proved herself time and time again.    
  
Stiles’s light tug on Derek’s arm brought him out of his thoughts. The Alpha turned his head to look at the boy. Just a glance sent a calming euphoria over him.

  
But, something was wrong. Stiles looked scared. An emotion Derek hated seeing him wear.   
  
"We're here," Stiles quietly managed to get out. Derek started to understand. The last time Stiles was at Scott and Isaac's door, his whole world shifted.   
  
The boy started to shake with the memories, and he looked sickly pale. Derek’s heart clenched. The Alpha easily pulled Stiles into an embrace. Wishing more than anything that he could protect the boy from his own thoughts.   
  
"Deep breaths, amore. I won't let anything happen to you," Derek whispered against Stiles’s forehead.   
  
"I know," Stiles replied, already pushing through the uneasiness. He was forcing himself to try and pretend he was ok. Derek knew better, knew he would end up breaking down sooner or later. But, he didn’t call Stiles out on it. Now wasn’t the time. 

The duo stood in the corridor a few seconds longer before Stiles nodded his head. Derek pushed open the door.   
  
Compared to the last time he saw the apartment, it looked much better. Broken furniture had been replaced, and the blood stains had been removed from the carpet.   
  
Derek took Stiles's hand into his own. With a firm hold, they walked in the direction of the bedroom. Where the couple had been contained since they both were technically on bedrest. But, knowing his packmates, they wouldn’t be kept stationary for long.   
  
Isaac looked over at the pair as the entered the room, and smiled softly. There was a book in his hand, and he was curled up contently under his bed covers. He, like the room, looked much better than before. True, he was still paler than usual and his bruises had faded to an ugly yellowish color. But, the swelling around his eyes had gone down so he was able to open them all the way.   
  


“Scott said you would be here soon. Though, I didn’t know Stiles was joining us,” Isaac said with a significant look directed at Derek. The blond suspected something was happening, and he wasn’t wrong. Derek felt his cheeks go red. What was going on with him today?

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, “ Stiles said, taking the statement the wrong way, “I’ll just go-”

 

“No,” Derek said firmly, before Isaac could even intervene. Stiles seemed very uncomfortable. Halfway to the door, and halfway in the room. Derek could almost hear the taunting that would haunt him for days to come.

 

“He’s right,” Isaac said, saving Derek from explaining himself. The truth was he didn’t really have an explanation. He just couldn’t bare the thought of Stiles leaving.

 

“Stay,” Isaac said, “I never thanked you for saving me.”

 

Stiles and Derek took a seat in two chairs that were near the bed. They had been set up there from previous visitors.   
  


“Glad to help,” Stiles said, bashfully.

 

“I’m serious,” Isaac insisted, “Thank you Stiles.”

 

Stiles’s eyes went wide, not quite knowing how to take the compliment. Overwhelmed with by Isaac’s pure gratitude. Derek cut in to save the boy from answering.

  
"Can you tell us what you remember from that night you were taken, Isaac? " Derek asked, not wasting any time with formalities. Derek knew Isaac wasn’t ok, nor was Scott. The best thing he could do for the both of them was find the culprit and get revenge. 

 

Isaac smiled, and without a trace of sarcasm said, “Missed you too, Derek.”   
  


Warmth flowed through The Alpha, feeling a sense of normality that had been missing for weeks now. But, this wasn’t the time for idle chit chat and Isaac soon continued on with his story.

  
"The night I was taken by...the woman. She drugged me. When I woke up, I found that I was tied to a chair, and three people were in the room. I think? It was dark I-I..." Isaac’s glazed over as he was pulled back into the memory. Before Stiles or himself could intervene, Scott was already there.   
  
"Come back to me,” Scott said stepping into the bedroom from the doorway, a glass of water in his hand. He rushed past Derek and Stiles, barely registering they were there on his way to his lover.

 

“I’m right here. You’re home, please come back to me,” the emotional anguish was clear in Scott’s voice. Like he’d been having to say those words for a while now. 

 

Derek wasn’t completely unfeeling. He felt guilty that he was intruding on something private. But, he needed this information. If they waited too long to get it, Isaac might forget important details.   
  
Isaac took a deep breath, holding Scott’s hand firmly as he continued his story, “The woman, and two of her men, were just looking at me. Like they were trying to figure out what to do; the feeling of not knowing what was coming was unbearable. And finally the woman whispered something to her men, that's when they came towards me. That's when they started. Punched, kicked, cut, bur-," he cut off, physically biting his tongue to stop the words that longed to pour out about what he had been put through. Scott pulled Isaac onto his lap, and started wiping away tears gently.   
  
Derek hated that one of his own, one of his toughest had been reduced to a quivering mess. Isaac was strong, he would recover. But, it was another scar to add to his list. What Derek’s pack did was dangerous, that was true. But, he would not stand for his brother being tortured.   
Derek could tell Stiles was upset as well. The boy was gripping Derek’s hand like his life depended on it. The Alpha rubbed his thumb over bony knuckles, trying to give whatever support he could.

 

With comforting words of praise, and tender kisses from Scott, Isaac re-composed himself and continued on.    
  
" ...burned. I didn't think that it was going to stop, but eventually it did. The woman looked at me with this sick satisfaction, and gave me a message for you, Derek. Whatever is happening, whatever is going on, it’s only the beginning. It’s only ever been the beginning." 

 

That’s all it took to convince Derek of his theory. The Argents were going to have hell to pay.   
  
"That was the last thing I remembered before Stiles found me." He finished in a strangled tone. Scott buried Isaac's face into his neck and ran his fingers through his hair comfortingly.    
  
"Thank you Isaac. That was very...helpful," Derek said meticulously. Not only was he hiding his recent discovery from Stiles, but now Isaac and Scott too. He didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up just yet.

With a clinical nod, Derek stood from his chair. Stiles copied his movements without a word. The boy’s silence was worrying.

  
"We'll leave you now. Get some rest, the two of you, and be careful." Scott nodded, but there was a glimmer in his eye. He knew Derek was hiding something. The Alpha shook his head in a silent demand to drop it. Scott held his gaze for a moment longer before letting it go. But, Scott wasn’t fooled, he wanted answers. 

 

So did Derek.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long but its here it exists now

It was two in the morning, but Derek was wide awake.

He had left Stiles in bed an hour ago. At the time, the boy had been fast asleep, looking like a Prince resting in his castle. His beauty had only been amplified by the pale moonlight washing over his mole covered body. Causing a deep contrast to the dark sheets that lay around him.

Derek longed to go back and cuddle the boy until morning came. But, the thoughts in his head kept him from finding such peaceful sleep. If he stayed, he would only be kept awake with anxiety. Flashes of Stiles with blood smeared across his deathly white face plagued Derek’s imagination. Isaac’s message as background noise.

  
_ "This was only the beginning." _ __   
  
Derek had been warned, he wouldn’t let that go to waste. He wouldn’t sit back quietly while someone hurt Stiles. Not when the boy had just become so important to him. He would not let the hands of time repeat itself.

The Alpha closed the door to his room, pretending he didn’t see the frown on Stiles’s lips. Once safely in the hall, he breathed deeply, burying all his raw emotions until he felt numb. It was the only way he could do what he had to.

The Alpha made his way to his office, his logical mind already running a mile a minute.

Amiss all the unknowns, there were some things he knew for sure.

First, something was coming, something bad.   
Second, whatever it was was willing to hurt people he cared about.   
Third...   
  
Stiles had to be kept safe, at all cost.   
  


~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lydia and Erica stood in front of The Alpha. The girls hid behind masks of lace and beauty, but there was no doubt these two women were warriors. As Derek needed them to be.

Which was why The Alpha was entrusting them with the task at hand. One that was held close to his heart.

"Protect Stiles. No matter what. Take him out to the market today. Keep him away from here. I’m going to be meeting with important people, people I don't know if I can trust yet. I'm not letting them anywhere near Stiles. You understand?"

  
"Yes Alpha," they both replied, without a trace of fear in their voices.

Derek nodded his head to them, their signal to leave.

He watched them walk away, their skirts billowing around their ankles.

Stiles would be safe with them, Derek told himself. Allowing himself this one moment of weakness.

He had to be.

  
~~~~~~~~~~   
  
Stiles was not happy when he woke up the next morning.

To begin with, Derek was not in bed with him. But, Erica and Lydia were.

“What the hell,” Stiles mumbled, still slightly unconscious. The two females were sitting on the side of his bed, dressed in their finest. They stared at him like a piece of meat.

“We’re taking you out,” Erica said, a sadistic smile on her face. Stiles felt his balls mold back into his body.

“What?” He asked, voice hoarse, and now fully awake. Erica hit him on the side of the head, though humor lit up her eyes.

“When are you going to learn I’m not trying to kill you,” the blond said. She then stood up and went over to Stiles’s closet, pulling out all his clothes.

“When you stop acting like you’re going to,” Stiles replied, getting out of bed to stop the girl from ripping apart his entire wardrobe. Which only consisted of some shirts and trousers Derek had lended him.

“Oh, honey,” Erica said, allowing him to take the items out of her hand to put back on hangers, “If I was trying to kill you, you wouldn’t know it until I had a blade pressed to your neck.”

Stiles went white. He wouldn’t be surprised of she was hiding fangs to go along with her sharp tongue.

“Enough, Erica. We’re not actually here to scare him,” Lydia said, grabbing Stiles’s hand in her own to lead him back to the bed.

“Sit,” she commanded and handed the boy a paper parcel. Its brown paper crinkled in his hands, though he held it gingerly.

“What’s this?” Stiles asked. He didn’t think it would explode, but he wanted to be on the safe side.

“It’s pair of Isaac’s old clothes, freshly washed and ready for use. Don’t think it’s escaped my notice you either wear the same trashy thing you came in or Derek’s old clothes that are far too big on you.”

Stiles blushed, feeling like he was being scolded by his mother. It was a feeling he oddly missed.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” The girl said, not unkindly, “Open it.”

Stiles was pulled out of his reminiscing, and chuckled at Lydia’s eagerness before tearing open the grift. It fell apart, easily enough, to reveal a solid red button down with suspenders and slacks. The boy wasn’t prepared for the tears that stung his eyes. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he had had something this nice to wear. Two sets of hands rested on his shoulders as comfort.

“Thank you,” Stiles said, emotion thick in his voice, “Thank you.”

 

“It wasn’t all us,” Erica said, offhandedly, “It was Derek’s idea.”

Before Stiles could even process the new wave of emotion that flowed through him, Lydia and Erica were on their feet.

“Alright, we’ll be waiting in the hall. You put that on, we’re taking you shopping today,” Lydia said, her words explained the nice silks both girls were draped in.

“What for?” Stiles asked, watching as Erica picked up her purse and made to exit the room. Lydia wasn’t far behind.

“Well you can’t only wear Isaac’s clothes forever, now can you,” the redhead answered, she winked at him before closing the door behind her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~   
  
Two hours in Stiles found himself in a boutique called The Emissary. 

The three had gone through all the stores on the block, buying anything that piqued their interest. It was fair to say Stiles was weighed down by far too many bags.

The boy couldn’t help the guilt that bubbled inside him at all the items he had collected. He knew what he had gotten was considered necessities, and that it was rational he buy them. But, he found it harder and harder to convince himself of that when Erica made him try on his third suit of the day. Who needed three suits anyway? He didn’t even go to events that required him to wear one suit, nevermind a multitude. But, Lydia had thrown it in with the rest of the pile, assuring him the cost wouldn’t be a problem.

Finally, when the girls had decided they had focused long enough on Stiles, they dragged the boy to one of their favorite shops.

This was where they had been for half an hour now. 

Stiles stood in a room filled with twists and turns and light green drapery hung on the windows to match the emerald green wallpaper. He felt incredibly out of place.

Stiles didn’t want to hinder his friends enjoyment, he was beyond grateful for all they had done for him today. But, he wouldn’t deny he was ready to be done for the day. If only his friends felt the same.

Stiles dropped his head, resigning himself to his fate, before glancing up once again to search for either Lydia or Erica. It was the fourth time he had lost them in the confusing store. Stiles made his way past frills and bows before spotting strawberry blond hair waving around like crazy as she reached for the next item that had caught her eye.

This time it was a maroon gown with a scandalously low neckline. Stiles felt his cheeks heat just looking at it.

“Yes or no?" Lydia asked holding the gown up to her body. Stiles didn’t bother asking how she knew he was behind her. Lydia Martin had her ways. 

“It’s beautiful. Allison will think so too," he answered with a teasing wink. Lydia looked down, bashfully clutching the dress to her chest. Allison was the only topic Stiles could use to humanize her. Lydia was terrifying. She set her eyes on something and she’d stop at nothing to get it, it was intimidating. The only person who could break down her walls was one Allison Argent. The brunette came around and Lydia melted like ice on a summer’s day.

“She’d like anything I put on for her,” Lydia said, trying to maintain some level of composure, “But, you’re right. I’ll go try it-”

“Lydia cut off, her eyes going wide as saucers. The dress fell from her hands. It floated to the ground, landing in a heap at her feet. Lydia grabbed his arm and pulled him behind her.

“Wow,” Stiles said at the unexpected show of strength, “What’s wrong, Lydia?” He asked sensing the tension that was emanating off of her. When she didn’t answer he followed her gaze where it was trained on a man a few yards away. He was calmly looking through the store’s aisle. But, even Stiles could tell there was something suspicious about him.

“Run Stiles," Lydia ordered without looking back at him, “Run home and find Derek. He’ll protect you. Tell him...tell him I tried.”

Stiles wanted to protest. Insist she explain to him what the hell was going on, and why she was acting like her final moments were upon her.

“Go,” she insisted, pushing at his chest. Stiles stumbled back, and knew he had to follow her instructions. But, no matter how he thought if it, he felt like a coward. Lydia was more equipped to handle this situation then he was, Stiles knew that. But, what kind of person was he to leave his friend to fight alone? It felt wrong.

Nonetheless, Stiles whipped his body around, prepared to get as far away from the store as possible. Or, at least to Derek. Derek could fix this.

Except, the boy was never going to make it that far. He turned around and ran straight into a man’s chest. A pit formed in Stiles’s stomach. This man was dressed similarly to the one in the front of the store. It wasn’t a long leap to realize Stiles was trapped. That was the last clear thought Stiles had before the butt of a gun come down hard on his head.

The boy collapsed to the floor in a heap, not enjoying the way the world was spinning around him. 

“Lydia?” He tried calling for her, to warn her. But, his voice wasn’t cooperating with him.

Distantly, Stiles heard fighting and then the sound of two gunshots before there was silence. It only lasted a moment before the room erupted in chaos.   
  
"Stiles get up we have to go," came a muffled voice to Stiles’s left, it kind of sounded like Erica. But, before he had the chance to answer her back, the world around him blurred before the light faded to darkness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~   
  
Derek sat at a round table, surrounded by dangerous people. People he didn’t want to admit he needed. Smoke clung thickly to the air with each drag of a cigarette, it made Derek antsy. He had never liked the things, never liked the untamable danger that they immited. But, he held his tongue as the man in front of him took another hit from the stick. Now wasn’t the time to make enemies.

To Derek’s left sat Enis. The man was huge. He fought with his bare hands, and enjoyed the feeling of squeezing the life out of his victims.

Across from Enis were the twins, Ethan and Aiden.    
They had the same brown hair, the same darkness in their eyes, the same set jaw, and the same creepy ability to read people.   
If you weren't careful with how you presented yourself, they would be able to tell your most private secret with a single glance.

Next to the twins sat Kali.   
She passed herself off as a sweet, innocent girl. Though it wasn’t hard to see that wasn’t the case. If only her victims could see it too.   
Once Kali had them where she wanted, she was almost as quick as Allison with her knives.

In front of Derek was their leader, Deucalion.   
The man was blind, but that was his only weakness.   
He was ruthless in a fight. His uncanny ability to hear let him know where his enemy was, and he never missed a target.   
  
Together in one room, even Derek’s pack stood a slim chance against them, if any at all. Which was why Derek needed them.

The five of them called themselves The Alpha Pack. Each member had made their way from different mafia families, but had abandoned all old ties to be one unit.

They weren’t gang in the sense that Derek’s pack was. No, they didn’t hunt and terrorize as Derek’s family did.    
What they were was much more unsettling.

  
They were in it for the information.   
  


They cared little for money, but traded in the power only information could give a person. They knew everything that went on in this city. If there was something they didn't know, they would torture a person to the inch of their lives to get said information.   
They were either a formidable enemy, or a treasured ally.   
They picked and chose sides depending on the fight.   
Depending on who they thought would win. Which is why it was dangerous giving The Alpha’s this information in the first place. If they didn’t help Derek, they’d be sure to help his enemies.

  
"Derek." 

The man’s lips almost turned down in displeasure at the use of his real name. Only his pack ever had the permission to call him something so informal.

But, Derek didn’t say a word against it. He knew better then to show emotion to someone he couldn’t trust.   
"Why, after all these years, have you decided to call us?" Questioned Deucalion. But, by the smugness in his voice, it was clear he knew something.   
And he wanted Derek to know it, too.

  
"Well, you are so clearly at my every beck and call. Why should I not ask you here if it suits my whim," Derek stated, knowing he was playing a dangerous game. He was slipping into the role of the ruthless, cocky adolescent who thought the world owed him something. He had changed since then, but The Alpha’s didn’t need to know that.

 

“If you called us here to play games-”

 

“Silence, Kali,” Deucalion ordered. The girl went quiet, yet danger still lay beneath the surface. Ready to come out and play at any moment.

The leader trained his unseeing eyes directly on Derek, "Don’t test my patience. You may not like what comes out of it." 

 

It had been five minutes and they were already threatening each other. Wonderful. 

Not all of The Alpha’s were as sharp witted as Deucalion. If Derek mildly annoyed them enough, information may slip from their lips. Which was why Derek was antagonizing them to begin with. Nothing had come forth yet, but they had time. Derek would get what he wanted one way or another.

Across the room, the phone rang interrupting the tension filled atmosphere.    
  
"You should get that," Kali sneered, a condescending smirk on her blood painted lips. Derek ached to punch her.

Nonetheless, he stood to answer the phone. Derek could feel the Alpha's eyes on his back and prepared himself to feel the sting of a blade.   
He quickly picked the phone up, hoping the conversation would be brief so he could turn around to face his...guests once more. But, he barely had time to speak before Erica's panicked voice could be heard.   
  
"Alpha, Alpha you have to get to the Emissary boutique, now." Something was wrong.   
Fear settled in Derek’s stomach. If something was wrong with Erica, something was wrong with Stiles.   
Erica and Lydia were supposed to protect him. That was their assignment. What had happened?

“Erica what’s going on?" Derek tried to keep his voice even for her sake as well as his own. But, anyone, especially the people behind him, could tell his voice was shaking.

“I don't know. I was on the other side if the store when I heard gunshots. I think it’s a robbery,  but I’m not sure. I managed to get to the back of the store to the phone, and they haven’t seen me yet. But Derek...Stiles is hurt. Lydia’s gone.”   
  
Derek froze. Every emotion he knew better then to let show hit him full force. 

“Stiles,” he whispered, before he lost his mind.

Derek threw the phone across the room, not caring what The Alpha pack saw. Someone hurt Stiles and Derek was going to kill them.

The Alpha barged out of the room running down flights of stairs like they were nothing. He met Allison and Boyd on the way down. They tried to stop him, wanting to know what was going on. But, Derek blew past them. He was seeing red.    
Scalding hot rage burned through him. Someone had touched Stiles, someone had hurt Stiles. That someone was going to regret it.

Derek got outside and let his legs carry him to the well known store his pack shopped at often. It was only a couple blocks away.   


The Alpha knew he was getting close when hoards of people starting running past him in a frenzy. Derek pushed himself harder. He had a horrible feeling this was somehow much more than a simple robbery.   
The Alpha shoved his way through the crowd, finally seeing the little boutique at the end of the street come into view.   
He used every ounce of strength he had to get him there.   
  
What he saw when he arrived would come to haunt him for many nights. 

Stiles's body lay on the floor, Erica's lap cradled his head. His head. There was a deep gash sliced into his forehead, and he looked sickly pale. Derek rushed to his side, taking him from Erica.

She tried to speak to The Alpha, maybe to ask him what she should do. But, Derek felt like he was in a dream. Noises were muted and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.   
The only thing he could focus on clearly was Stiles.   
  
Fear held Derek in its icy grasp. Fear that he was going to lose Stiles, fear that his beautiful eyes would never open, fear that Derek wouldn't be able to hear the boy’s laughter ever again.   
He bent his head and kissed Stiles’s parted pink lips.   
  
"Wake up amore...please wake up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: we are going to be taking a break from posting for a while only because we want to focus on writing and editing more chapters so we have them lined up to post instead of taking forever to post one (this also goes for all of our other stories in progress) tysm for reading as always and we will be back soon   
> All the love


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random updat  
> Sorry it took so long  
> Cant promise when the next part will be up but we’ll try to get it out quicker   
> All the love  
> And thank u to thise who stayed during our break

Derek had been restless for two days now. Watching Stiles. Protecting Stiles. Making sure nobody got near him.   
He couldn't sleep, if he slept something might happen.   
And, if something happened to Stiles it would mean he had failed...again.   
  
This was Derek’s fault. He should have never sent Stiles out with Lydia and Erica. He should have never allowed for the situation to get so out of hand. If he had been more aware, Lydia might still be with them.

  
Lydia.

  
Derek had failed her, too. She was gone, taken, just like Isaac had been a week ago. Derek was a fool. If he had figured out the threat sooner, set up extra protection for his pack, so many things would have gone differently. But, there was no time to dwell on the past. Derek had to push forward, and do all he could to get Lydia back.

  
For all they knew she might turn up looking worse then Isaac had, if she turned up at all. But, one thing was holding him back from starting his search with a blazing fury. As always, Stiles was the sole occupant of his thoughts. The guilt was tearing at Derek, breaking down his carefully built walls. When Stiles woke up, Derek wouldn’t waste a moment getting down on his knees and begging for forgiveness that he didn't deserve.   
  


The Alpha shivered. If this was the way he was feeling for Stiles, he didn’t want to imagine what Allison was going through.

 

Derek was concerned for his second. He could see her wilting with devastation as the days went by without her lover. 

When Derek had first built up the courage to tell Allison what happened, she shut down quickly. 

 

Except, that wasn’t true. 

 

When at first Allison heard the news, she hadn’t said a word. She stood,  frozen unable to process what had happened. It was only after, once the news had settled in her skin, that she had lost her mind.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~

  
A screaming silence haunted the room. The only sound was Stiles’s steady breathing. Derek couldn’t be more grateful for the noise than he already was, but he was afraid the slightest tick would be enough to push Allison over the edge.

 

She was worryingly silent considering the information he had just told her. If he was in her shoes, he would be raging. Swearing vengeance on any enemy who stood in the way of getting back to the one he loved. On second thought, maybe it was for the best he  _ wasn't _ in her situation. 

 

Allison stood without conveying a hint of emotion, though Derek knew it was bubbling inside her like a volcano about to erupt. Her fire was going to burn down everything in its path.

"I'm sorry," The Alpha dared to say, the tension starting to choke him. 

The words were clumsy, and foreign on his tongue. But, if it wasn't for his orders Lydia would be here, safe in Allison's arms. An apology was the least he could give her.

  
Allison fixed her dark, brown eyes on her Alpha, "It's not your fault," 

Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. The sounds that she made were strange coming from her mouth. This wasn’t the Allison who Derek was accustomed to. This Allison sounded broken, and he couldn’t deny the utter wrongness of it.

She raised her head to look at the Alpha fully, “But, I'm going to find who did this and kill them. And I'm going to need your help."   
  


Derek nodded sharply. Of course, of course he would do anything to get Lydia back. This was his pack mate they were talking about. It was a ridiculous thought that he wouldn’t help, and he wondered how it even crossed Allison’s mind.

But, by the blatant relief that crossed his second’s face, maybe it wasn’t so outlandish after all. Allison had lost her anchor, everything was upside down and wrong. If finding Lydia helped in the slightest, he would do all he could.

 

~~~~~~~~~~   
  
That night, Allison’s heartbreaking sobs echoed through the building. Her cries so horrible Derek couldn’t help but be kept awake, worrying. Selfishly, not for Allison or Lydia. But, for Stiles. 

That could have been him, drowning in his sorrows. If a single event had been slightly different, he could have lost Stiles completely. The Alpha shivered and pushed the unwelcome thoughts from his mind, trying to get some sleep. But, it was no use. The crashes and screaming from Allison’s room were too unnerving to be blocked out. Like she was demanding to be heard.

 

All night no one dared go see if something was wrong.   
  
They all knew the answer.

 

Of course something was wrong, and Allison was breaking.

  
A moan of pain brought Derek out of the memory he hadn’t even realized he had been caught up in. Every muscle in his body tensed at the sound, all his senses focused solely on the boy in front of him as relief shot through him like a bullet. 

 

Stiles’s eyes opened for the first time in days. Derek had to choke back his own cry.   
  
"Water," the boy mumbled through cracked lips. He had to squint his honey colored eyes, not used to such harsh lighting after so long in the dark. Derek rushed to turn down the brightness.

 

“Water,” Stiles spoke again, before falling into a coughing fit. 

 

The Alpha felt a pang of embarrassment at his own incompetence, and hurried to get painkillers and a tall glass of water.   
He had never before been so compliant for anyone, but with Stiles he didn’t have to think twice.

Derek placed the medicine on the nightstand before he gently situated Stiles so he was supported by the pillows.   
  


"My head...hurts," the boy said, blinking wide like an owl, before wincing.

 

“Take this,” Derek urged, pushing the medicine closer to Stiles. Hating the pain the boy was so obviously in.

Stiles fumbled with the pills before placing them in his mouth. Derek took over by tipping back the water for him to drink. He didn’t trust Stiles to do it himself without spilling it everywhere. 

 

"Relax, amore,” Derek found himself saying, unconsciously murmuring soothing words. Not only for Stiles, but himself as well, “don't strain yourself. You've been unconscious for two days. Just relax."

  
Stiles’s eyes went wide at the new information, but couldn’t find it in him to express much more emotion than that. He was exhausted, even after two days of sleeping apparently. 

But, something nagged in the back of his mind. The moments before everything went black were the first to find him when he woke up. Lydia. Erica. The attack. 

 

Stiles swallowed the pills, eager for them to start taking effect. Then, he spoke the questions filling his mind.

 

"Is Lydia okay?" 

 

The Alpha went rigid, and Stiles would have felt guilty if the pressing need for answers wasn’t so strong. 

Derek had a split second to figure out what he was going to do. He could tell the truth and risk Stiles causing himself more distress than was healthy for his current state. Or lie. The decision wasn’t that hard, though it pained him to do so.

 

Derek grabbed Stiles’s hand, needing to feel the boy alive underneath him.

 

"Lydia’s fine. She’s safe-” Derek was cut off by the doors bursting open. The Alpha was up and armed in the second, murder in his eyes for anyone who interrupted Stiles’s recovery. 

 

Isaac had barged into the room, and if the man wasn’t still in the process of healing, Derek would have torn him a new one.

Of course the words that came out of Isaac’s mouth next made Derek reconsider that option.

 

"We might have a lead on Lydia's location!" He exclaimed. Behind The Alpha, devastation crippled every line of Stiles’s face. 

  
"What!?"   
  


~~~~~~~~~~   
  
"What do you mean lead!? She's missing!?! For how long!? What the hell have you been doing!?" Stiles all but screamed, panic building in his throat. This was his fault, he had allowed Lydia and Erica to take him out into the city. If he had insisted they stay at home, like he originally wanted, none of this would have happened. 

  
“Stiles calm down you’re going to hurt yourself!" Derek growled, though his hands were running soothingly up and down Stiles’s arm in an attempt to soothe him. Stiles hated that he allowed himself the luxury of pushing into the touch, seeking it out, when his friend was missing.

 

From the corner of his eye, Stiles watched as Isaac grimaced at his mistake and was making his way to the door where he entered from. But, Stiles couldn’t let him go, not when the need for information and clearity was so strong.

And he couldn't rely on Derek to tell him the truth, not with the believable way he spun the lie only moments before.

Stiles had the terrifying realization that he might have never found out that Lydia was missing at all if it wasn’t for Isaac’s screw up.   
  
"Isaac don’t you dare leave this room. I want answers, now. Lydia’s missing and All- oh my god Allison! Is she okay? I-I can't imagine how much she's hurting a-and worrying rig-" before Stiles could work himself up any further, Derek grabbed his face. Forcing the younger of the two to look at him.

  
“Enough Stiles,” he ordered, running one of his hands against the boy’s temple, “we’re already in the process of finding Lydia, and from what Isaac is insinuating, progress was made. Causing yourself to panic isn’t going to help anyone. Breathe.”

 

Stiles felt his bottom lip tremble. Even with how angry he still felt at Derek, he was more grounded when The Alpha was near. 

Derek’s scent cocooned the boy, and it was the final push Stiles needed to give in.   
He wrapped his arms around Derek's neck and buried his head into The Alpha’s chest. The man was stiff at first, as if he hadn't expected the initiation of physical contact. But, when the wonder that was Stiles willingly plastered himself to someone, you didn’t refuse. 

Derek’s arms went around Stiles’s back, squeezing him softly.   
  
From the doorway Isaac cleared his throat, "I would give you two privacy, but this is very important, Alpha," Derek, unhappily, untangled himself from Stiles. Though he stayed seated next to the boy in case of a relapse.

Derek rested a hand on the boy’s thigh, and squeezed once, before signaling Isaac to talk. 

  
"We got a heads up that Lydia is being kept somewhere by the docks. Most likely near one of the warehouses that’s used for imported metals and such," Isaac reported.

Stiles’s brain started spinning. The mafia member’s talking faded to background noise as hope took hold.

  
"Do we know exactly where Lydia is, or only the surrounding area?" Derek asked, a hardness to his body that only appeared when he had gone full strategy mode.   
  
Stiles worked at that craphole...he could be a vital part of finding Lydia.   
  
"Just surrounding area," Isaac answered.   
  
For once, Stiles could be of aid to Derek, he could be useful. Lydia could be returned safely.   
  
"How do we know this information isn't meant to send us on a wild goose chase?" Derek once again questioned, hesitant to believe such convenient news.   
For a moment Isaac looked nervous, like something more was happening that went way above Stiles’s head,"Deucalion, personally came to us, and freely gave the information."    
  
Derek looked shocked for a moment, but quickly composed himself. A tension settled over the room,"If the Alpha’s gave it to you, it's reliable information."

There was a puzzled look on Derek’s face that Stiles didn’t have time to pay attention to.   
  
None of the politics behind the situation mattered to the brunette. They had a lead on Lydia.   
And Stiles was going to make sure they got her back.    
Isaac proceeded to give trivial information about suggested scouting times, and then left with a nod from his Alpha.    
  
Stiles glanced at Derek once Isaac was out of sight. The leader seemed troubled. His dark eyebrows were creased, and his lips pursed tightly. Stiles didn't like it, and felt a strong urge to fix what was wrong. And, he could do it, too. As long as he sold himself correctly.

  
"Hold me?" Stiles asked him quietly. It was the first time Stiles had so openly and willingly asked for Derek’s touch, and even though there was an ulterior motive to it, the need for the man was strong. 

 

Derek’s head snapped to Stiles, almost afraid to find that what he heard was only a figment of his imagination. His arms always itched to hold the boy, but he wouldn't put it past his mind to create a scenario where Stiles actually asked for it. When Stiles nodded his reassuring permission, Derek tentatively climbed onto the hospital bed with him. It was awkward for only a moment as Derek tried to situate the two of them so the were barely touching. But, Stiles wouldn't stand for it. With a sharp, unexpected tug, Derek was wrapped around the boy in his arms. Stiles wriggled once before going pliant, The Alpha longed to bend forward and kiss the beautiful creature he held, but was afraid of pushing boundaries. It wasn’t a hardship to settle for cuddling. 

 

Stiles basked in the warmth Derek’s body provided, feeling safe and cared for in a way he had come to cherish since meeting the man. He hurt with the knowledge he would have to ruin it soon. For, the problem at hand neither of them could ignore.   
  
"Derek,” Stiles said, feeling the man’s warm puffs of breath on the back of his neck, he didn’t give the man time to reply before the next words burst from his lips, “I know those docks like the back of my hand, if you let me help, I can find Lydia.”   
  
Derek’s body tensed against Stiles’s back, and the boy already felt a sense of loss. 

 

"What do you mean?" Derek asked, and Stiles couldn't read what was going through his mind at all. 

 

Stiles took a deep breath. He could persuade the Alpha, he knew he could.   
  


"For a long time, I worked at the docks. But, the people I worked with weren't always the best, so I had to find hiding spaces. I learned the insides and outs of that place by memory... I might be your best chance at finding Lyd-" But it seemed Derek's conscience caught up with his brain.   
  
"No," Derek growled, pulling Stiles closer until he was practically covered by the Alpha’s body, “I’m not putting you in harms way ever again Stiles. Even the slightest chance of something happening to you is too big a chance for me. No, under no circumstances will you be with us when we go to the docks."   
  


"Derek please I can-"   
  
In a flash of movement The Alpha had Stiles pinned to the bed. The man looked down at the boy in his arms. Anger radiated from him, but he still managed to be careful with Stiles, especially due to his head injury. 

 

"No Stiles, as your leader, as your protector... No."   
  


The fear in Derek’s eyes, that he tried so desperately to hide was enough to keep Stiles quiet. And with whispered promises of agreement to the man’s wishes, Stiles managed to calm the Alpha once more until he was pliant against Stiles’s side.

 

But, Stiles wasn’t done yet.

 

This was far from over.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long and is probably crap   
> Thx for staying to those who stayed and welcome to new ppl  
> Sorry that we rarely ever update  
> All the love

_ A stinging slap sounded as skin met skin. The dying echo reverberated throughout the spacious entryway.  _

_ The blurred faces of Stiles’s friends watched, stunned, around the pair. Unsure how to react. But, the boy only had his sights set on one person. A person who made his heart splinter and crack with every insult he’d slung Stiles’s way.  _

_ He had trusted Derek. Trusted his heart to him.  _

_ Stiles should have known better. _

 

_ He was dealing with a monster after all.  _

_   
_ _ "You can find somewhere else to sleep tonight because if you come near me you'll see what I can do with a gun,” Stiles spat, enraged, already turning away from the shocked man in front of him.  _

 

~~~~~~~~~~~    
  
Derek had barely stepped from the car before the docks stench assaulted his senses.

 

“Oh god, that smell is rancid,” Boyd grumbled from behind The Alpha as he breathed in the air around him. The man pulled a face before spitting on the ground, as if he could expel the scent from his very taste buds.

 

“Then let's make sure we’re not here long enough to get used to it,” was Derek’s only reply before cocking the gun in his hand. 

The Alpha stepped further out of the car so the rest of his crew could exit the vehicle, and wandered into a lone rain puddle from an afternoon shower. Used cigarettes and litter carelessly filled the tiny pool.

 

It wasn't just the nauseating scent that made this place a general horror, Derek realized. The more he noticed the more disgusted The Alpha became as he took in the decay around him. 

It was the destination as a whole.

  
Heavy crates were stocked high, creaking ominously as each new wind blew through its cracks. The waves crashed heavily against the dock, their salty spray hitting The Alpha’s face as if in warning to stay back.

But, Derek planned to do no such thing. Not until he got back what was stolen from him. A heel clicked as it made contact with the pavement, and he took back what he said. Not until he got back what was stolen from Allison.

 

His packmate didn’t say anything as she came to stand directly behind him, but he felt her words anyway.

 

_ What now,  _ she seemed to insist.

 

_ Where is she _ , the brunette demanded, not directly of him, but the world around her. Derek wished he could provide her with more of an answer but he couldn’t. He could only give her a vague direction to follow, and thank god he wasn't in her shoes. Knowing the thought was selfish, but he never claimed not to be.

  
Not for the first time that night had Derek felt a shiver of relief knowing Stiles was safe at home. The image of the boy peacefully sleeping in bed was keeping The Alpha calm. Stiles was ok, and he would be there when Derek got back.   
But this night wasn't about Derek or Stiles, it was about Lydia.   
The Alpha forced himself to focus on the task at hand and be the leader he had to be.   
  


He turned to face his people, feeling like a lifetime had passed, knowing it had only been a couple seconds. He spoke directly and harshly, but there was no room for mercy and his family knew it. They didn’t expect it of him, and Derek was thankful for that, knowing he didn’t have it in him to be anything other then The Alpha right now.

  
"Erica, and Boyd take the East side. Isaac and Scott take the South side. Allison come with me, we’ll take the West side." With a single nod of understanding, his troops split.   
  
They traveled under the moonlight like shadows. Never being in one place for more time than necessary, disappearing like smoke from the dying embers of a flame. The pack searched every corner of the place, with no trace of Lydia. But, The Alpha’s were never wrong. Derek had seen what they could do first hand, how they could make even the mighty fall. Once you had someone truly terrified, their mind was yours to control.   
  
No, The Alpha’s weren't wrong, Derek’s pack just wasn’t looking in the right places.   
  
For the most part all the workers had left by now to either go home or drink their sorrows away. But, once in a while Derek had to confront someone as they stumbled across their path.   
At the moment Allison had a blubbering boy pinned to a brick wall. A gun to his head. He looked old enough to be an adult, but he was no man.   
"Where is she," Allison growled making the boy whimper, face gone white as a sheet.

 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about-” the boy started to say but Allison pressed the barrel of her gun harder into his neck and he was cut off by his own scream. It was almost humorous to watch, seeing as Derek was aware the gun wasn't even loaded.

 

“Please! Please!” The boy shouted, “I’m heir to the Whittemore fortune, I’ll give you anything you want just don’t kill me.”

  
The boy was pathetic, and Derek hated the mere sight of him. Knowing that there were people like Stiles who had had nothing their entire life, and were honest, good people. But, their honorability was overshadowed every day by pricks like this who had everything they wanted handed to them on a golden platter and didn’t give a damn about anyone lesser than them. 

 

Derek had half a mind to truly put a bullet through his head.

 

But, it would be a waste of a perfectly good shot.

 

The boy wasn't answering Allison's demand, and the two couldn't stay here much longer in case there was anyone lurking. The last thing they needed was the cops on their trail. That would be a much different fight. 

  
"Answer her you idiot," The Alpha finally spoke, his voice demanding, powerful,"have you seen a red haired girl anywhere in this area."   
  
The boy still was too terrified to speak. Derek growled at the piece of scum, but the boy didn't know anything that was obvious, and they were wasting time. 

Derek grumbled to himself over another failed hostage attempt, and spoke to Allison who looked like she wanted to shoot the kid solely to shut him up. 

 

“Knock him out and leave him. We have other places to be,” he ordered already on the move. Allison nodded, and Derek took great satisfaction in the way the boy’s voice went quiet as the butt of Allison’s gun made contact with his head.

 

He would be fine when he woke up, Derek knew. But, the darker part of him still itched to see blood.

 

Allison caught up with The Alpha in a few strides, heavy words already on her lips, “What next,” she asked of him.

 

Frustration welled in Derek as he realized he didn’t know.

 

They had searched the docks inch to inch with no luck. As much as he wanted to have all the answers, he didn’t, and it was leaving them both strung tight.

Nonetheless, The Alpha opened his mouth to answer, prepared to come up with a bullshit answer on the spot that Derek knew Allison would see right through.

 

However, something saved him from answering. Something that made him wish he’d been able to.

 

A scream sounded off every warehouse wall, coming to rattle in his ears before rushing off all the way out to sea. A scream that sent a bolt of fear down Derek’s spine. A scream, Derek told the boy he would never have to scream again because he would be protected.

  
" _ Derek _ !"   
  
The Alpha didn’t bother to make sure Allison was on his tail sprinting off in search of the boy he was pretty sure he was in love with.

 

Stiles was here.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~

  
" _Stiles_... _please_... _just_ _stay_ _here_ ,” Derek murmured in Stiles’s ear. 

 

The shape of each word caressed the boy’s ear delicately, and he longed to arch up into Derek’s touch as the man’s lips met the start of his hairline. But, he stayed still, feigning sleep they both knew was a hoax. 

Though the pair had made their peace the night before, Stiles was pissed at the Derek’s order to leave him behind in the search for Lydia. The man was being selfish, knowing that Stiles could be vital to Lydia’s wellbeing, yet choosing not to use the resource anyway.

Stiles felt sick with the knowledge that what was about to happen was plain wrong. His well being wasn’t worth losing Lydia over. Though Derek had insisted otherwise.

  
When Stiles hadn’t answered, letting out a sleepy sigh instead, Derek kissed him once more. The scruff of the man’s beard tickled Stiles neck, and he almost broke. Almost. But, The Alpha pulled away quickly.

 

“ _ I can handle your silence if it means you’re safe,” _ Derek then whispered. Stiles ached to rip open his eyes and tell the man exactly what he thought of  _ that _ statement. But, a reply to the taunt was exactly what Stiles knew Derek wanted, and he refused to give him the satisfaction of an argument.

 

The Alpha left without another word.

  
As soon as the click of the door sounded and Derek’s footsteps faded out of range, Stiles threw off the covers, feet moving before they even touched the floor. 

 

Lydia was in danger, and Derek was worried about  _ Stiles _ ? No, Stiles didn't care about his promise anymore, he was going to find his friend. She needed help, fast, and Stiles was the packs best chance at getting her back. Stiles understood that Derek wanted him out of harm's way, and some part of him thanked him so much for that. But Stiles was not going to stand by and let Lydia get hurt because he had done nothing.

  
And he had been right.   
  


If it wasn't for him Lydia probably wouldn't have been found, because of course, Stiles snuck himself into one of the cars. And, of course, he was right. 

 

Even with the precise explanation Stiles had provided outlining every detail of every speck of the docks, they were still missing vital areas the boy knew to be good hiding places.   
  


So, he did what he did best. He folded into himself, and prepared to take the docks apart nail by nail until he put Lydia back in their arms.    
  


~~~~~~~~~~   
  
Stiles had taken his time wandering through creaky buildings darkened by the night sky, with rust rotting through their metal skeletons and cobwebs lining every corner. But, his search for Lydia ended in an abandoned warehouse that no one knew existed anymore. Stiles had stumbled upon it a while back when looking for a safe place to hide from disgruntled co-workers.   
And thank god he had. As soon as the boy walked into the crumbling building, he had spotted red hair from behind an old, wooden crate. 

 

“Lydia,” Stiles had murmured to himself in pure relief. Not wasting another second, he sprinted to the pile of boxes, moving all that stood in the way of getting to his friend until she was right in front of him. 

Stiles dropped to his knees, the pain running hot throughout his body, but not finding enough in him to care. 

He tentatively reached for the unconscious girl, afraid she would disappear like smoke as soon as he tried to touch her. But, even when his fingers caressed her cheek, she stayed put. He wasted no time in pulling her more securely into his arms to save her from the freezing floor she’d been laying on for who knew how long.   
  
Upon closer inspection, he could see blood dripping down the side of her face, and her left arm was twisted in such a way he knew it was broken. Not only that but black and blue bruises littered her body. Lydia might have been safe from the enemy, but she was lying on the concrete floor of a warehouse, dying.    
No.   
Only unconscious, Stiles hoped. He swallowed down a panic at the possibility that she wasn’t.

 

But, Stiles couldn’t let himself succumb to his own fear. He wouldn’t lose himself like he had with Scott, not when this time, Lydia’s life rested solely in his hands. And, that’s what it truly boiled down to.

Stiles had to keep his cool because he refused to let Lydia die. Not here, not like this. 

 

The boy’s long, elegant fingers came to rest upon the girl’s neck feeling a pulse, though faint enough that it worried him. Still it was enough to give him hope he desperately craved in order to save them. He collected the girl in his arms, careful of her arm, alarmed at how cold she really was compared to what she felt like when it was only his hand touching her. A shiver wracked up his spine, trying to put a crack in his desperate hope. Stiles didn’t know how long he would be able to fend it off, either. But, he did know this, he needed to get her to a doctor. 

 

He needed to get her  _ home _ .   
  
Stiles shocked himself with that word, but knew it was true. Home used to be a moldy apartment and a father who drank himself away every night. But the word was beginning to take on a new meaning. Now, home meant a man who Stiles was lucky enough to wake up to every morning. A man who cared for him, even when he made mistakes. A man Stiles trusted with his life...a man Stiles thought he might be in love with. And that man, Stiles prayed to God, was close enough to help.   
  
" _ Derek _ ," Stiles screamed.   
  


The boy gnawed at his bottom lip mercilessly, nervous as he waited, listening for rushed footsteps. Stiles knew he couldn't wait forever because time was not on his side, and he called again.   
  
"Der-" Stiles was cut off by a voice calling back for him. 

 

"Stiles!" The boy turned his head quickly and stood up carefully, holding Lydia still. Stiles sighed in relief as Derek ran up to him.

  
"Derek, she’s here- she’s here but she’s not going to make it if we don’t-” he didn’t need to say any more as The Alpha took her away from him without a single word to Stiles, which he hated to admit bothered him. Even in a time like this.

 

The Alpha checked over his packmate quickly just as Allison burst into the room, finally catching up. But, as soon as she saw who he held in his arms, the girl froze.

 

“Get to the cars,” Derek ordered her immediately. Allison made to argue, but was too unstable to put up an excuse as to why she should stay. Which was the reason Derek gave her the order to begin with.

Derek knew Allison had to leave or she would break, and this was not the place or time for that to happen. 

 

“Go, Allison. She’ll be safe with me you know that,” he insisted, and with a pained whimper Allison turned and fled.

Stiles watched, unsure of the proceedings as Derek stood with Lydia in his arms, shadowed by the moonlight illuminating his frame.

 

“You too, Stiles,” Derek grunted, his voice turning cold in a way that shocked Stiles and left an pit in his stomach, “we’ll talk when we get back.”

 

Derek’s words seemed to slap Stiles in the face. Leaving him breathless, and more angry then he could ever remember feeling, “Don’t you dare start treating me like a child-” he started to say but never got to finish.

 

“Then why are you acting like one,” Derek seethed, a sliver of his full rage being ripped from him, and Stiles realized now was not the place to put up an argument.

 

“Go,” Derek said again with a nod of his head to the door, and waited for Stiles to get ahead of him so he could look out for the boy from behind. Stiles felt pinned by the angry glare on his back the entirety of the trek. Knowing those burning eyes never left his being, yet not allowing it to scare or guilt him into being sorry for what he did.

 

It wasn’t much longer before the three reached the car where the pack stood waiting, seemingly frantic, but relieved.

 

"Get in the cars, now!” Derek barked, “Take us to Deaton.”

At once, the pack moved like a well oiled machine, working together to do what had to be done.

All except Allison who only had eyes for the girl in Derek’s arms. Her girl. She finally rushed her Alpha who relinquished his hold on Lydia for Allison to take, which she did gratefully. 

 

"What did they do to you," Allison whispered as tears sprinkled down her face. Falling only to run down Lydia’s porcelain features before dropping to the cold, dark ground below. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else proud that this has beena pretty quick update relative to the other ones...no just me...cool...

  
The ride back from the docks was all a blur to Stiles.

He vaguely could recall the anxiety he felt due to Derek’s hostility towards him, and a strange mix of hope and fear concerning Lydia’s wellbeing.

But, besides that the cramped walls of the car that drove them back to the hotel was all Stiles knew in that short period of time.

It wasn’t until after he was certain Lydia was in the capable hands of Deaton did Stiles come back to himself.

With a wisp of Allison’s skirt, the brunette, Lydia and the good doctor were lost from sight as the door to the medical wing closed with a resounding bang.

Then everything was silent. Cold silence that wracked Stiles’s body with shivers. He felt lost, like all the adrenaline had abandoned him with one big swoop and he was left with this hollow emptiness just under his rib cage. 

And, the only thing he wanted was Derek.

Anxiety rose to the surface of his consciousness once more as his thoughts turned to those of The Alpha. All he wanted was to feel the man’s arms surround him, hold him, care for him in the way Stiles had come to rely so heavily on. But, the way Derek treated him at the docks was enough confirmation for the boy to know he wasn’t going to be on the man’s good side for a while. Another shiver shook his body, the ache he felt for The Alpha a pressing need he knew wouldn’t be satisfied, at least not tonight. In fact, it would probably be better if he just escaped now. He could hear the distant rumbles of conversation from the pack behind him, and knew that he was the last of their worries. He could slink away and deal with it all in the morning. He nodded to himself, as if confirming that yes it was in fact a good plan, before he did the one thing that would damn the rest of his night.

Hoping to catch one last glimpse of Derek before he made his way for the staircase, Stiles glanced over his shoulder, slowly so as not gain anyone’s notice. But, it was too late for that.

Someone’s focus was on him already. Someone’s focus had never left him to begin with.

Derek Hale was standing behind the rest of the pack, his arms crossed menacingly over his chest, the shadows of the room seeming to encase him as if they were servants responding to their master’s call, and his dark eyes were fixed on only one point. That point was Stiles.

The boy froze as he locked his eyes with Derek’s, a battle he knew he wasn’t prepared enough for to win.

Derek had the advantage in the situation. He was livid, and had been scared for the one thing in his life that was quickly becoming the center of it. But, Stiles didn’t know that just yet.

No, all he could feel was deafening acceptance as Derek stalked through the his pack, a hunter searching for its prey. And, as he came to halt a few feet away from Stiles, the boy knew that the prey had been found. 

The pack quieted down around them as they finally took in what was going on, their attention focused solely on the duo in the middle of the room.

It made Stiles antsy that they were going to do this, hash this out, with such an obvious crowd. But, the spark of anger he felt due to Derek’s intimidation methods proved to be enough fuel to force him onward. Past the point of no return. If this was how Derek wanted to play, then Stiles would play.   
  


“You idiot,” Derek spat, his rage palpable.

Stiles dared to open his mouth to defend himself, but Derek cut him off immediately.

  
"I told you to stay here,” The Alpha growled his voice deep and echoing off the walls around them, and the world seemed to still, “I told you to stay here, to stay  _ safe,  _ and you deliberately disobeyed me. Did you even think that decision through? You could’ve been killed. You acted like a child.” 

Stiles bit his lip to keep the growing anger from pouring out of him in one giant scream. Derek was being daft, and ignorant to the fact that Stiles had just saved Lydia’s life. That he had proved with his actions how wrong Derek had been to try and keep him home.

“If it wasn’t for me  _ deliberately disobeying  _ your orders, Lydia would be dead,” Stiles seethed, the words sending a shock throughout the room as the seriousness of the boy’s words took hold, “You were a fool to try and keep me here when you knew I was the only one who could have found her. You’re selfish, and blinded by your own fucking ego. If anyone’s acting like a child it’s you.”

That, for obvious reasons, didn’t sit well with The Alpha who stalked even closer to Stiles as the waves between them took control and carried them off to the undertow where it would be almost impossible to gain footing again. Stiles knew that, yet he let the two of them sink further.

 

“I’m selfish?” Derek snapped, “I’m selfish for wanting to protect you? You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into here, you’ve bitten off more than you can chew and you don’t know it yet. But, I do. You’re rash and make decisions without thinking them through leading you into situations you can’t control. You were unaware and unarmed at those docks, and if I hadn’t been close enough to hear you calling you’d be stuck there with a dying girl in your arms and you know it.”

Stiles felt something crack inside him at the blatant way Derek dismissed him, writing him off as another useless boy playing at being a man. The crack inside him only grew larger and larger as a gush of emotion he couldn't manage to hold back burst through. 

How could he have let himself get this far? Stiles thought to himself thinking back on his first few days here were he was adamant on getting out, adamant on hating the man who had taken him. Because Stiles knew that man was a monster. 

A monster who knew how to get what he wanted, and Stiles had gotten caught up in the middle of it. He had become exactly what he hated. 

He had let the man poison his mind and his heart. He had believed Derek when he spoke kind words, and forgave him when he didn’t because wasn’t kindness, even a little bit of it, worth the downfall of what came after? But, Stiles wouldn’t let himself be played for a fool any longer. Not when the hurt Derek caused him was enough to destroy him if he wasn’t careful. 

Before The Alpha could react Stiles reached for the gun in his back pocket, and pointed it in the middle of Derek’s head.

There was an intake of breath from the pack as they rushed to disarm Stiles, but Derek stopped them with a wave of his hand.

Eyes not even focused on the gun, but on Stiles. Solely, Stiles.

 

“Tell me I was unprepared,  _ unarmed _ one more time Derek. Tell me again that I’m a child and-”

 

“You won’t shoot,” Derek stated matter a factly not a moment of fear passed through his unfeeling features. And Stiles inwardly flinched from his words, hating how a part of him still just wanted to break down in the other man’s arms. Hating that Derek was right. With an infuriated huff Stiles pocketed the gun again and with a glare of pure hatred turned to storm away, knowing the entire pack was watching him, but no longer finding it in him to care.

 

“Run away from your problems, Stiles. Just like the child you are.”

That was the last straw.

Faster than either of them thought possible Stiles’s rage carried his feet all the way back to Derek. 

A stinging slap sounded as skin met skin. The dying echo reverberated throughout the spacious entryway. 

The blurred faces of Stiles’s friends watched, stunned, around the pair. Unsure how to react. But, the boy only had his sights set on one person. A person who made his heart splinter and crack with every insult he’d slung Stiles’s way. 

He had trusted Derek. Trusted his heart to him. 

Stiles should have known better.

He was dealing with a monster after all.

  
"You can find somewhere else to sleep tonight because if you come near me you'll see what I can do with a gun,” Stiles spat, enraged, already turning away from the shocked man in front of him. 

But, The Alpha wasn’t done, because when could he ever just be the bigger men. No he had to make it hurt that much worse.

 

“You’re payment, Stiles,” Derek shouted at his retreating back, “Don’t  _ ever _ forget it.”

Tears blurred Stiles’s vision but he wouldn't let himself be pushed around again, not anymore. Not when everyone he had ever loved broke his trust. Like his mother for dying, his father for abandoning him, Derek for betraying him.

The boy, for the last time that night turned to face The Alpha pulling the gun from his pocket one last time and firing a warning shot into the wall behind Derek.

The bullet cracked as it exited the barrel of the gun, its landing point fracturing the plaster in the wall mirroring what Stiles felt he looked like on the inside.

 

“If I’m only payment then why do you care so much,” Stiles said before fleeing the room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

He had to hurry, he didn't know when Derek would come barging in to yell at him again, or to do worse. Not that it mattered, Stiles didn’t want to be around when it happened. He was shaking as the adrenaline left him and he realised what he had just done. His father had taught him to shoot a gun only once, and his aim was nowhere near accurate. If he had been even a little bit off he could of hit Derek, he could have killed Derek.

And even though he was livid with the man, he...he loved him. And that's why this hurt so damn badly.

Stiles couldn't be here anymore, he couldn't wallow in the destroyed relationship he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He loved Derek, but love wasn’t always enough.

Stiles had to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy all the love


End file.
